m^^doolev 

iiniiiliil 

In  the  Hearts  of  His 
"^  Countrymen  ^ 


oo 


Mr.   DOOLEY: 

In  the  Hearts  of  His  Countrymen 


By  the  Same  Author 

Mr.  DOOLEY 

In   Peace  and  in  War 

Green  cloth,  $1.25. 
Small,  Maynard  &  Company 

BOSTON 


Mr.  DOOLEY 

In  the  Hearts  of  His 
Countrymen 


Boston 

Small,  Maynard  &   Company 

1914 


Copyright^  l8g8^  l8g<)^  by  the  Ch'tcug^,  Journal 

Copyright^  l8gg^  by  Robert  Howard  Russell 
Copyright^  i8gg^  by  Small^  Maynard  iff  Company 


Entered  at  StjtioAers'  Hall 


TO 


SIR  GEORGE  NEWNES,  Bart. 
Messrs.  GEORGE  ROUTLEDGE  &  SONS 

LIMITED 
AND   OTHER   PUBLISHERS   WHO,  UNINVITED,   PRESENTED 
MR.    DOOLEY  TO  A  PART   OF    THE    BRITISH    PUBLIC 


'/znH']']^ 


PREFACE. 


The  author  may  excuse  the  presentation 
of  these  sketches  to  the  pubHc  on  the 
ground  that,  if  he  did  not  pubHsh  some  of 
them,  somebody  would,  and,  if  he  did  not 
pubHsh  the  others,  nobody  would.  He  has 
taken  the  liberty  to  dedicate  the  book  to 
certain  enterprising  gentlemen  in  London 
who  have  displayed  their  devotion  to  a  sen- 
timent now  widely  prevailing  in  the  Music 
Halls  by  republishing  an  American  book 
without  solicitation  on  the  author's  part. 
At  the  same  time  he  begs  to  reserve  in  petto 
a  second  dedication  to  the  people  of  Archey 
Road,  whose  secluded  gayety  he  has  at- 
tempted to  discover  to   the  world. 

With  the  sketches  that  come  properly 
under  the  title  "  Mr.  Dooley  :   In  the  Hearts 


viil  PREFACE 

of  His  Countrymen  "  are  printed  a  number 
that  do  not.  It  has  seemed  impossible  to  a 
man  who  is  not  a  Frenchman,  and  who  is, 
therefore,  tremendously  excited  over  the 
case,  to  avoid  discussion  of  the  Jabber- 
wocky  of  the  Rennes  court-martial  as  it  is 
reported  in  America  and  England.  Mr. 
Dooley  cannot  lag  behind  his  fellow  Anglo- 
Saxons  in  this  matter.  It  is  sincerely  to  be 
hoped  that  his  small  contribution  to  the 
literature  of  the  subject  will  at  last  open  the 
eyes  of  France  to  the  necessity  of  conduct- 
ing her  trials,  parliamentary  sessions,  revolu- 
tions, and  other  debates  in  a  language  more 
generally    understood    in     New    York    and 

London. 

F.  p.  D. 

Dublin,  August  30,  1899. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


Expansion 3 

A  Hero  who  Worked  Overtime  .  8 

RuDYARD   Kipling 13 

Lord  Charles   Beresford       ...  18 

Hanging  Aldermen 23 

The  Grip 30 

Lexow 25 

Their   Excellencies,  the  Police     .  41 

Shaughnessy 45 

Times   Past .  50 

The  Skirts  of  Chance      ....  56 

When  the  Trust  is  at  Work       .  61 

A  Brand   from  the   Burning      .     .  66 

A  Winter  Night 72 

The  Blue  and  the  Gray       ...  76 

The  Tragedy  of  the   Agitator     .  82 

BoYNE  Water  and   Bad   Blood        .  85 


CONTENTS 


The   Freedom    Picnic     . 

The   Idle  Apprentice    . 

The  O'Briens   Forever 

A  Candidate's   Pillory 

The  Day  after  the  Victory 

A  Visit  to  Jekyl   Island 

Slavin  contra  Wagner 

Grand  Opera  . 

The  Church   Fair 

The  Wanderers  . 

Making  a  Cabinet 

Old  Age 

The   Divided   Skirt 

A   Bit  of  History 

The  Ruling  Class 

The  Optimist  . 

Prosperity  . 

The  Great  Hot  Spell 


CONTENTS  xi 


PAGE 


Keeping   Lent 185 

The   Quick,  and  the   Dead     ,     .     .  190 

The   Soft  Spot 196 

The   Irishman  Abroad       ....  202 

The  Serenade 206 

The  Hay   Fleet 210 

The    Performances  of   Lieutenant 

HOBSON 216 

The  Decline  of  National  Feeling,  222 
"Cyrano   de   Bergerac  "    ....  228 
The   Union  of  Two    Great    Fort- 
unes         234 

The   Dreyfus   Case  : 

1 240 

II 249 

III 259 

IV 268 

I        V 276 


Mr.   DOOLEY: 

In  the  Hearts  of  His  Countrymen 


EXPANSION. 

"Whin  we  plant  what  Hogan  calls  th' 
starry  banner  iv  Freedom  in  th'  Ph'lip- 
peens,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  an'  give  th' 
sacred  blessin'  iv  liberty  to  the  poor,  down- 
trodden people  iv  thim  unfortunate  isles, — 
dam  thim  !  —  we'll  larn  thim  a  lesson." 

"Sure,"  said  Mr.  Hennessy,  sadly,  "we 
have  a  thing  or  two  to  larn  oursilves." 

"  But  it  isn't  f 'r  thim  to  larn  us,"  said 
Mr.  Dooley,  "  'Tis  not  f 'r  thim  wretched 
an'  degraded  crathers,  without  a  mind  or  a 
shirt  iv  their  own,  f'r  to  give  lessons  in 
politeness  an'  liberty  to  a  nation  that  manny- 
facthers  more  dhressed  beef  than  anny  other 
imperyal  nation  in  th'  wurruld.  We  say  to 
thim  :  '  Naygurs,'  we  say,  '  poor,  dissolute, 
uncovered  wretches,'  says  we,  *  whin  th'  crool 
hand  iv  Spain  forged  man'cles  f'r  ye'er 
limbs,  as  Hogan  says,  who  was  it  crossed  th' 
say  an'  sthruck  off  th'  comealongs  ?  We  did, 
—  by  dad,  we  did.  An'  now,  ye  mis'rable, 
childish-minded  apes,  we  propose  f'r  to  larn 


4  EXPANSION 

ye  th'  uses  iv  liberty.  In  ivry  city  in  this 
unfair  land  we  will  erect  school-houses  an' 
packin'  houses  an'  houses  iv  correction ;  an' 
we'll  larn  ye  our  language,  because  'tis  aisier 
to  larn  ye  ours  than  to  larn  oursilves  yours. 
An'  we'll  give  ye  clothes,  if  ye  pay  f 'r  thim  ; 
an',  if  ye  don't,  ye  can  go  without.  An', 
whin  ye're  hungry,  ye  can  go  to  th'  morgue 
—  we  mane  th'  resth'rant  —  an'  ate  a  good 
square  meal  iv  ar-rmy  beef.  An'  we'll  sind 
th'  gr-reat  Gin'ral  Eagan  over  f 'r  to  larn  ye 
etiquette,  an'  Andhrew  Carnegie  to  larn  ye 
pathriteism  with  blow-holes  into  it,  an' 
Gin'ral  Alger  to  larn  ye  to  hould  onto  a  job  ; 
an',  whin  ye've  become  edycated  an'  have  all 
th'  blessin's  iv  civilization  that  we  don't 
want,  that  '11  count  ye  one.  We  can't  give 
ye  anny  votes,  because  we  haven't  more  thin 
enough  to  go  round  now  ;  but  we'll  threat  ye 
th'  way  a  father  shud  threat  his  childher  if 
we  have  to  break  ivry  bone  in  ye'er  bodies. 
So  come  to  our  ar-rms,'  says  we. 

"  But,  glory  be,   'tis  more  like  a  rasslin' 
match    than  a  father's    embrace.      Up   gets 


EXPANSION  5 

this  little  monkey  iv  an'  Aggynaldoo,  an' 
says  he,  '  Not  for  us,'  he  says.  *  We 
thank  ye  kindly  ;  but  we  believe,'  he  says, 

*  in  pathronizin*  home  industhries,'   he  says. 

*  An,'  he  says,  *  I  have  on  hand,'  he  says,  *  an' 
f'r  sale,'  he  says,  *a  very  superyor  brand  iv 
home-made  liberty,  like  ye'er  mother  used 
to  make,'  he  says.  '  'Tis  a  long  way  fr'm 
ye'er  plant  to  here,'  he  says,  *  an'  be  th'  time 
a  cargo  iv  liberty,'  he  says,  *  got  out  here  an' 
was  handled  be  th'  middlemen,*  he  says,  '  it 
might  spoil,'  he  says.  *  We  don't  want 
anny  col'  storage  or  embalmed  liberty,'  he 
says.  '  What  we  want  an'  what  th'  ol'  re- 
Hable  house  iv  Aggynaldoo,'  he  says,  '  sup- 
pHes  to  th'  thrade,'  he  says,  '  is  fr-esh  lib- 
erty r-right  off  th'  far-rm,'  he  says.  *  I 
can't  do  annything  with  ye'er  proposition,' 
he  says.  '  I  can't  give  up,'  he  says,  *  th' 
rights  f'r  which  f'r  five  years  I've  fought 
an'  bled  ivry  wan.  I  cud  reach,'  he  says. 
'  Onless,'  he  says,  *  ye'd  feel  like  buyin'  out 
th'  whole  business,'  he  says.  '  I'm  a  path- 
rite,'  he  says;  *  but  I'm  no  bigot,*  he  says. 


6  EXPANSION 

"An'  there  it  stands,  Hinnissy,  with  th' 
indulgent  parent  kneelin'  on  th'  stomach  iv 
his  adopted  child,  while  a  dillygation  fr'm 
Boston  bastes  him  with  an  umbrella.  There 
it  stands,  an'  how  will  it  come  out  I  dinnaw. 
I'm  not  much  iv  an  expansionist  mesilf.  F'r 
th'  las'  tin  years  I've  been  thryin'  to  decide 
whether  'twud  be  good  policy  an'  thrue  to 
me  thraditions  to  make  this  here  bar  two  or 
three  feet  longer,  an  manny's  th'  night  I've 
laid  awake  tryin'  to  puzzle  it  out.  But  I 
don't  know  what  to  do  with  th'  Ph'lippeens 
anny  more  thin  I  did  las'  summer,  befure  I 
heerd  tell  iv  thim.  We  can't  give  thim  to 
anny  wan  without  makin'  th'  wan  that  gets 
thim  feel  th'  way  Doherty  felt  to  Clancy 
whin  Clancy  med  a  frindly  call  an'  give 
Doherty's  childher  th'  measles.  We  can't 
sell  thim,  we  can't  ate  thim,  an'  we  can't 
throw  thim  into  th'  alley  whin  no  wan  is 
lookin'.  An'  'twud  be  a  disgrace  f'r  to  lave 
befure  we've  pounded  these  frindless  an'  on- 
grateful  people  into  insinsibility.  So  I  sup- 
pose, Hinnissy,  we'll  have  to  stay  an'  do  th' 


EXPANSION  7 

best  we  can,  an'  lave  Andhrew  Carnegie 
secede  fr'm  th'  Union.  They'se  wan  conso- 
lation ;  an'  that  is,  if  th'  American  people 
can  govern  thimsilves,  they  can  govern 
annything  that  walks." 

"  An'  what  'd  ye  do  with  Aggy  —  what- 
d'ye-call-him  ?  "   asked  Mr.  Hennessy. 

"  Well,"  Mr.  Dooley  replied,  with  bright- 
ening eyes,  "  I  know  what  they'd  do  with 
him  in  this  ward.  They'd  give  that  pathrite 
what  he  asks,  an'  thin  they'd  throw  him 
down  an'  take  it  away  fr'm  him." 


A  HERO  WHO  WORKED 
OVERTIME. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  it  looks 
now  as  if  they  was  nawthin'  left  f*r  me 
young  frind  Aggynaldoo  to  do  but  time. 
Like  as  not  a  year  fr'm  now  he'll  be  in  jail, 
like  Napoleon,  th'  impror  iv  th'  Fr-rinch, 
was  in  his  day,  an'  Mike,  th'  Burglar,  an' 
other  pathrites.  That's  what  comes  iv  bein' 
a  pathrite  too  long.  'Tis  a  good  job,  whin 
they'se  nawthin'  else  to  do ;  but  'tis  not  th' 
thing  to  wurruk  overtime  at.  'Tis  a  sort  iv 
out-iv-dure  spoort  that  ye  shud  engage  in 
durin'  th'  summer  vacation  ;  but,  whin  a  man 
carries  it  on  durin'  business  hours,  people 
begin  to  get  down  on  him,  an'  afther  a  while 
they're  ready  to  hang  him  to  get  him  out  iv 
th'  way.  As  Hogan  says,  '  Th'  las'  thing 
that  happens  to  a  pathrite  he's  a  scoundhrel.' 

"  Las'  summer  there  wasn't  a  warmer 
pathrite  annywhere  in  our  imperyal  domin- 
ions thin  this  same  Aggynaldoo.  I  was 
with  him  mesilf.     Says  I  :  *  They'se  a  good 


A  HERO  9 

coon,'  I  says.  '  He'll  help  us  f'r  to  make 
th*  Ph'lippeens  indepindint  on  us  f'r  sup- 
port,' I  says  ;  '  an',  whin  th'  blessin's  iv  civ- 
ilization has  been  extinded  to  his  beloved 
counthry,  an','  I  says,  *  they  put  up  intarnal 
rivinue  offices  an'  post-offices,'  I  says,  *  we'll 
give  him  a  good  job  as  a  letter-carrier,'  I 
says,  '  where  he  won't  have  annything  to 
do,'  I  says,  '  but  walk,'  I  says. 

"  An'  so  th'  consul  at  Ding  Dong,  th' 
man  that  r-runs  that  end  iv  th'  war,  he  says 
to  Aggynaldoo  :  *  Go,'  he  says, '  where  glory 
waits  ye,'  he  says.  '  Go  an'  sthrike  a  blow,' 
he  says,  '  f'r  ye'er  counthry,'  he  says.  *  Go,* 
he  says.  *  I'll  stay,  but  you  go,'  he  says. 
*  They's  nawthin'  in  stayin',  an'  ye  might 
get  hold  iv  a  tyrannical  watch  or  a  pocket 
book  down  beyant,'  he  says.  An'  off  wint 
th'  brave  pathrite  to  do  his  jooty.  He  done 
it,  too.  Whin  Cousin  George  was  pastin' 
th'  former  hated  Castiles,  who  was  it  stood 
on  th'  shore  shootin'  his  bow-an-arrow  into 
th'  sky  but  Aggynaldoo?  Whin  me  frind 
Gin'ral   Merritt  was  ladin'  a  gallant  charge 


lo  A  HERO 

again  blank  catredges,  who  was  it  ranged  his 
noble  ar-rmy  iv  pathrites  behind  him  f'r  to 
see  that  no  wan  attackted  him  fr'm  th'  sea 
but  Aggynaldoo  ?  He  was  a  good  man  thin, 
—  a  good  noisy  man. 

"  Th'  throuble  was  he  didn't  know  whin 
to  knock  off.  He  didn't  hear  th'  wurruk 
bell  callin'  him  to  come  in  fr'm  playin'  ball 
an'  get  down  to  business.  Says  me  Cousin 
George :   "  Aggynaldoo,  me  buck,'   he  says, 

*  th'  war  is  over,'  he  says,  *  an'  we've  settled 
down  to  th'  ol'  game,'  he  says.  '  They're 
no  more  heroes.  All  iv  thim  has  gone  to 
wurruk  f'r  th'  magazines.  They're  no  more 
pathrites,'  he  says.  *  They've  got  jobs  as 
gov'nors  or  ar-re  lookin'  f'r  thim  or  anny- 
thing  else,'  he  says.  '  All  th'  prom'nint 
saviors  iv  their  counthry,'  he  says,  *  but  me- 
silf,'  he  says,  '  is  busy  preparin'  their  de- 
finse,'  he  says.     '  I  have  no  definse,'  he  says  ; 

*  but  I'm  where  they  can't  reach  me,'  he 
says.  '  Th'  spoort  is  all  out  iv  th'  job  ;  an', 
if  ye  don't  come  in  an'  jine  th'  tilin  masses 
iv  wage-wurrukers,'  he  says,  '  ye  won't  even 


A  HERO  II 

have  th'  credit  iv  bein'  licked  in  a  gloryous 
victhry,'  he  says.  *  So  to  th'  woodpile  with 
ye  ! '  he  says  ;  '  f  r  ye  can't  go  on  cillybratin' 
th'  Foorth  iv  July  without  bein'  took  up  f 'r 
disordherly  conduct/  he  says. 

"  An'  Aggynaldoo  doesn't  undherstand  it. 
An'  he  gathers  his  Archery  Club  ar-round 
him,  an'  says  he :  *  Fellow-pathrites,'  he 
says,  '  we've  been  betrayed,*  he  says. 
'  We've  been  sold  out  without,'  he  says, 
'  gettin'  th'  usual  commission,'  he  says. 
'  We're  still  heroes,'  he  says  ;  *  an'  our  pitch- 
ers is  in  th'  pa-apers,'  he  says.  *  Go  in,'  he 
says,  *  an'  sthrike  a  blow  at  th'  gay  deceivers,' 
he  says.  *  I'll  sell  ye'er  lives  dearly,'  he 
says.  An'  th'  Archery  Club  wint  in.  Th' 
pathrites  wint  up  again  a  band  iv  Kansas 
sojers,  that  was  wanst  heroes  befure  they 
larned  th'  hay-foot-sthraw-foot,  an'  is  now 
arnin'  th'  wages  iv  a  good  harvest  hand  all 
th'  year  ar-round,  an'  'd  rather  fight  than  ate 
th'  ar-rmy  beef,  an'  ye  know  what  happened. 
Some  iv  th'  poor  divvies  iv  heroes  is  liber- 
ated fr'm  th'  cares  iv  life  ;  an'   th'   r-rest  iv 


12  A  HERO 

thim  is  up  in  threes,  an'  wishin'  they  was 
home,  smokin'  a  good  see-gar  with  mother. 

"  An'  all  this  because  Aggynaldoo  didn't 
hear  th'  whistle  blow.  He  thought  th'  boom 
was  still  on  in  th'  hero  business.  If  he'd 
come  in,  ye'd  be  hearin'  that  James  Haitch 
Aggynaldoo'd  been  appointed  foorth-class 
postmasther  at  Hootchey-Kootchey ;  but 
now  th'  nex'  ye  know  iv  him  '11  be  on  th' 
blotther  at  th'  polls  station  :  '  James  Haitch 
Aggynaldoo,  alias  Pompydoor  Jim,  charged 
with  carryin'  concealed  weepins  an'  ray- 
sistin'  an  officer.'  Pathriteism  always  dies 
when  ye  establish  a  polls  foorce." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Hennessy,  "  I'm  kind 
iv  sorry  f'r  th'  la-ads  with  th'  bows  an' 
arrows.  Maybe  they  think  they're  pa- 
thrites." 

"  Divvle  th'  bit  iv  difF'rence  it  makes 
what  they  think,  so  long  as  we  don't  think 
so,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "  It's  what  Father 
Kelly  calls  a  case  iv  mayhem  et  chew  *em. 
That's  Latin,  Hinnissy  ;  an'  it  manes  what's 
wan  man's  food  is  another  man's  pizen." 


RUDYARD  KIPLING. 

"  I  THINK,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  th'  finest 
pothry  in  th'  wurruld  is  wrote  be  that  frind 
iv  young  Hogan's,  a  man  be  th'  name  iv 
Roodyard  Kipling.  I  see  his  pomes  in  th' 
pa-aper,  Hinnissy ;  an'  they're  all  right. 
They're  all  right,  thim  pomes.  They  was 
wan  about  scraggin'  Danny  Deever  that 
done  me  a  wurruld  iv  good.  They  was  a 
la-ad  I  wanst  knew  be  th'  name  iv  Deever, 
an'  like  as  not  he  was  th'  same  man.  He 
owed  me  money.  Thin  there  was  wan  that 
I  see  mintioned  in  th'  war  news  wanst  in  a 
while, —  th'  less  we  f 'rget,  th*  more  we  ray- 
mimber.  That  was  a  hot  pome  an'  a  good 
wan.  What  I  like  about  Kipling  is  that  his 
pomes  is  right  off  th'  bat,  like  me  con-ver- 
sations  with  you,  me  boy.  He's  a  minyit- 
man,  a  r-ready  pote  that  sleeps  like  th' 
dhriver  iv  thruck  9,  with  his  poetic  pants  in 
his  boots  beside  his  bed,  an'  him  r-ready  to 
jump  out  an'  slide  down  th'  pole  th'  minyit 
th'  alarm  sounds. 

"He's  not  such  a  pote  as  Tim  Scanlan, 


14  RUDYARD  KIPLING 

that  hasn't  done  annything  since  th'  siege 
iv  Lim'rick ;  an'  that  was  two  hundherd 
year  befure  he  was  bor-rn.  He's  prisident 
iv  th'  Pome  Supply  Company, —  fr-resh 
pothry  delivered  ivry  day  at  ye'er  dure. 
Is  there  an  accident  in  a  grain  illyvator? 
Ye  pick  up  ye'er  mornin'  pa-aper,  an'  they'se 
a  pome  about  it  be  Roodyard  KipHng.  Do 
ye  hear  iv  a  manhole  cover  bein'  blown  up? 
Roodyard  is  there  with  his  r-ready  pen. 
*  'Tis  written  iv  Cashum-Cadi  an'  th'  book 
iv  th'  gr-reat  Gazelle  that  a  manhole  cover 
in  anger  is  tin  degrees  worse  thin  hell.'  He 
writes  in  all  dialects  an'  anny  language,  plain 
an'  fancy  pothry,  pothry  f 'r  young  an'  old, 
pothry  he  weight  or  linyar  measuremint, 
pothry  f'r  small  parties  iv  eight  or  tin  a 
specialty.  What's  the  raysult,  Hinnissy? 
Most  potes  I  despise.  But  Roodyard  Kip- 
ling's pothry  is  aisy.  Ye  can  skip  through 
it  while  ye're  atin'  breakfuss  an'  get  a  c'rrect 
idee  iv  th'  current  news  iv  th'  day, —  who 
won  th'  futball  game,  how  Sharkey  is  thrain- 
in'  f'r  th'  fight,  an'  how  manny  votes  th' 
pro-hybitionist  got  f'r  gov'nor  iv  th'  State  iv 


RUDYARD  KIPLING  15 

Texas.  No  col'  storage  pothry  f 'r  Kipling. 
Ivrything  fr-resh  an'  up  to  date.  All  lays 
laid  this  mornin'o 

"  Hogan  was  in  to-day  readin*  Kipling's 
Fridah  afthernoon  pome,  an'  'tis  a  good 
pome.  He  calls  it  *  Th'  Thruce  iv  th' 
Bear.'  This  is  th'  way  It  happened  :  Rood- 
yard  Kipling  had  just  finished  his  mornin' 
batch  iv  pothry  f 'r  th'  home-thrade,  an'  had 
et  his  dinner,  an*  was  thinkin'  iv  r-runnin' 
out  in  th'  counthry  f 'r  a  breath  iv  fr-resh 
air,  whin  in  come  a  tillygram  sayin'  that  th' 
Czar  iv  Rooshia  had  sint  out  a  circular  let- 
ther  sayin'  ivrybody  in  th'  wurrld  ought  to 
get  together  an'  stop  makin'  war  an'  live  a 
quite  an'  dull  lite.  Now  Kipling  don't  like 
the  czar.  Him  an'  th'  czar  fell  out  about 
something,  an'  they  don't  speak.  So  says 
Roodyard  Kipling  to  himsilf,  he  says : 
*  I'll  take  a  crack  at  that  fellow,'  he  says. 
*ril  do  him  up,'  he  says.  An*  so  he 
writes  a  pome  to  show  that  th'  czar's  let- 
ter's not  on  th'  square.  Kipling's  like  me, 
Hinnissy.  When  I  want  to  say  annything 
lib-lous,  I   stick  it  on  to   me   Uncle   Mike. 


i6  RUDYARD  KIPLING 

So  be  Roodyard  Kipling.  He  doesn't  come 
r-right  out,  an'  say,  *  Nick,  ye're  a  liar !  ' 
but  he  tells  about  what  th'  czar  done  to  a 
man  he  knowed  be  th'  name  iv  Muttons. 
Muttons,  it  seems,  Hinnissy,  was  wanst  a 
hunter ;  an'  he  wint  out  to  take  a  shot  at  th' 
czar,  who  was  dhressed  up  as  a  bear.  Well, 
Muttons  r-run  him  down,  an'  was  about  to 
plug  him,  whin  th'  czar  says,  ^  Hoi'  on,' 
he  says, — '  hoi'  on  there,'  he  says.  *  Don't 
shoot,'  he  says.  *  Let's  talk  this  over,'  he 
says.  An'  Muttons,  bein'  a  foolish  man, 
waited  till  th*  czar  come  near  him  ;  an'  thin 
th'  czar  feinted  with  his  left,  an'  put  in  a 
right  hook  an'  pulled  off  Muttons's  face. 
I  tell  ye  'tis  so.  He  jus'  hauled  it  off  th' 
way  ye'd  haul  off  a  porous  plasther, —  raked 
off  th'  whole  iv  Muttons's  fr-ront  ilivation. 
*  I  like  ye'er  face,'  he  says,  an'  took  it.  An' 
all  this  time,  an'  'twas  fifty  year  ago,  Mut- 
tons hasn't  had  a  face  to  shave.  Ne'er  a 
one.  So  he  goes  ar-round  exhibitin'  th' 
recent  site,  an'  warnin'  people  that,  whin  they 
ar-re  shootin'  bears,  they  must  see  that  their 
gun  is  kept  loaded  an'  their  face  is  nailed  on 


RUDYARD  KIPLING  17 

securely.  If  ye  iver  see  a  bear  that  looks 
like  a  man,  shoot  him  on  th'  spot,  or,  bet- 
ther  still,  r-run  up  an  alley.  Ye  must  niver 
lose  that  face,  Hinnissy. 

"I  showed  th'  pome  to  Father  Kelly," 
continued  Mr.  Dooley. 

"What  did  he  say?"  asked  Mr.  Hen- 
nessy. 

"  He  said,"  Mr.  Dooley  replied,  "  that  I 
cud  write  as  good  a  wan  mesilf ;  an'  he  took 
th'  stub  iv  a  pencil,  an'  wrote  this.  Lemme 
see  —     Ah  !   here  it  is  :  — 

*  Whin  he  shows  as  seekin'  frindship  with  paws  that're 

thrust  in  thine. 
That  is  th'  time  iv  pearl,  that  is  th'  thruce  iv  th'  line. 

*  CoUarless,  coatless,  hatless,  askin'  a  dhrink  at  th'  bar. 
Me  Uncle  Mike,  the  Fenyan,  he  tells  it  near  and  far, 

*  Over  an'  over  th'  story  :    '  Beware  iv  th'  gran'  flimflam. 
There  is  no  thruce  with  Gazabo,  th'  Hne  that  looks  like 

a  lamb.' 

"  That's  a  good  pome,  too,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley;  "an'  I'm  goin'  to  sind  it  to  th' 
nex'  meetin'  iv  th'  Anglo-Saxon  'liance." 


LORD  CHARLES  BERESFORD. 

"  I  SEE  be  th'  pa-apers,"  said  Mr.  Dooley, 
"  that  Lord  Char-les  Beresford  is  in  our 
mist,  as  Hogan  says." 

"  An'  who  th'  divvle's  he  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Hennessy. 

"  He's  a  Watherford  man,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley.  "I  knowed  his  father  well, —  a 
markess  be  thrade,  an'  a  fine  man.  Char-les 
wint  to  sea  early  ;  but  he's  now  in  th'  plas- 
therin'  business, —  cemintin'  th'  'liance  iv 
th'  United  States  an'  England.  I'll  thank 
ye  to  laugh  at  me  joke,  Mr.  Hinnissy,  an' 
not  be  standin'  there  lookin'  like  a  Chinny- 
man  in  a  sthreet-car." 

"  I  don't  know  what  ye  mean,"  said  Mr. 
Hennessy,  softly. 

"  Lord  Charles  Beresford  is  a  sort  iv  ad- 
vance agent  iv  th'  White  Man's  Burden 
Thrajeedy  Company, —  two  little  Evas,  four 
hundherd  millyon  Topsies,  six  hundherd 
millyon  Uncle  Toms.  He's  billin'  the' 
counthry  f'r  th'   threeyumphial  tour  iv  th' 


LORD  BERESFORD  19 

Monsther  Aggregation.  Nawthin'  can  stop 
it.  Blood  is  thicker  than  wather;  an'  to- 
gether, ar-rm  in  ar-rm,  we'll  spread  th'  light 
iv  civilization  fr'm  wan  end  iv  th'  wurruld  to 
th'  other,  no  matther  what  you  an'  Schwartz- 
meister  say,  Hinnissy. 

"  Be  hivins,  I  like  th'  way  me  kinsmen 
acrost  th'  sea,  as  th'  pa-apers  say,  threat  us. 
'  Ye  whelps,*  says  Lord  Char-les  Beresford 
an'  Roodyard  Kipling  an'  Tiddy  Rosenfelt 
an'  th'  other  An^lo- Saxons,  '  Foolish  an' 
frivolous  people,  cheap  but  thrue-hearted  an' 
insincere  cousins,'  thev  says.  *  'Tis  little  ye 
know  about  ann^'^thing.  Ye  ar-re  a  disgrace 
to  humanity.  Ye  love  th'  dollar  betther  thin 
ye  love  annything  but  two  dollars.  Ye  ar-re 
savage,  but  inthrestin'.  Ye  misname  our 
titles.  Ye  use  th'  crool  Krag-Jorgensen  in- 
stead iv  th'  ca'm  an'  penethratin'  Lee-Met- 
ford.  Ye  kiss  ye'er  heroes,  an'  give  thim 
wurruk  to  do.  We  smash  in  their  hats,  an' 
illivate  thim  to  th'  peerage.  Ye  have  de- 
sthroyed  our  language.  Ye  ar-re  rapidlv 
convartin'  our  ancesthral  palaces  into  dwellin'- 


20  LORD  BERESFORD 

houses.  Ye'er  morals  are  loose,  ye'er  dhrinks 
ar-re  enervatin'  but  pleasant,  an'  ye  talk 
through  ye'er  noses.  Ye  ar-re  mussy  at  th' 
table,  an'  ye  have  no  religion.  But  ye  ar-re 
whelps  iv  th'  ol'  line.  Those  iv  ye  that  ar-re 
not  our  brothers-in-law  we  welcome  as 
brothers.  Ye  annoy  us  so  much  ye  must 
be  mimbers  iv  our  own  fam'ly.  Th'  same 
people  that  is  washed  occasionally  be  th' 
Mississippi  as  it  rowls  majistic  along  th'  im- 
peeryal  States  iv  Oheeho  an'  Duluth,  wa- 
thrin'  th'  fertyle  plains  iv  Wyoming  an' 
Mattsachusetts,  is  to  be  found  airnin'  a 
livin'  on  th'  short  but  far  more  dirtier 
Thames.  We  have  th'  same  lithrachoor. 
Ye  r-read  our  Shakspere  so  we  can't  un- 
dherstand  it ;  an'  we  r-read  ye'er  aspirin' 
authors,  Poe  an'  Lowell  an'  Ol'  Sleuth  th' 
Detective.  We  ar-re  not  onfamilyar  with 
ye'er  inthrestin'  histhry.  We  ar-re  as  pr-roud 
as  ye  are  iv  th*  achievements  iv  Gin'ral 
Shafter  an'  Gin'ral  Coxey.  Ye'er  ambass'- 
dures  have  always  been  kindly  received ; 
an',  whether  they  taught  us  how  to  dhraw  to 


LORD  BERESFORD  21 

a  busted  flush  or  wept  on  our  cellars  or  re- 
cited original  pothry  to  us,  we  had  a  broth- 
erly feelin'  for  thim  that  med  us  say,  "  Poor 
fellows,  they're  doin'  th'  best  they  can." 
'  So,'  says  they,  '  come  to  our  ar-ams,  an'  to- 
gether we'll  go  out  an'  conquer  th'  wurruld,' 

"  An'  we're  goin'  to  do  It,  Hinnissy.  Th' 
rayclptlon  that  this  here  sintlmint  has  ray- 
ceived  fr'm  Ivry  wan  that  has  a  son  in  col- 
ledge  is  almost  tumulchuse.  We  feel  like  a 
long-lost  brother  that's  been  settin'  outside 
in  th'  cold  f 'r  a  week,  an'  is  now  ast  in  to 
supper  —  an'  sarched  at  th'  dure  f'r  -deadly 
weepins.  We'll  have  to  set  up  sthraight  an' 
mind  our  manners.  No  tuckin'  our  nap- 
kins down  our  throats  or  dhrinkin'  out  iv^ 
th'  saucer  or  kickin'  our  boots  off  undher 
the  table.  No  reachin'  f'r  annything,  but 
*  Mah,  will  ye  kindly  pass  th'  Ph'lippeens  ? ' 
or  '  No,  thank  ye,  pah,  help  ye'ersilf  first.' 

"  An'  will  we  stay  in  ?  Faith,  I  dinnaw. 
We  feel  kindly  to  each  other ;  but  It  looks 
to  me  like,  th'  first  up  in  th'  mornin',  th' 
first  awav  with  th'  valu'bles." 


0.1  LORD  BERESFORD 

"  I'll  niver  come  in,"  protested  Mr. 
Hennessy,  stoutly. 

"  No  more  ye  will,  ye  rebelyous  oma- 
dhon,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "  An'  'twas 
thinkin'  iv  you  an'  th'  likes  iv  you  an' 
Schwartzmeister  an'  th'  likes  iv  him  that 
med  me  wondher.  If  th'  'liance  got  into 
a  war  with  Garmany,  an'  some  wan  was  to 
start  a  rough-an'-tumble  in  Ireland  about 
iliction  time,  1  wondher  wud  th'  cimint 
hold  !  " 


HANGING  ALDERMEN. 

Chicago  is  always  on  the  point  of  hang- 
ing some  one  and  quartering  him  and  boil- 
ing him  in  hot  pitch,  and  assuring  him  that 
he  has  lost  the  respect  of  all  honorable  men. 
Rumors  of  a  characteristic  agitation  had 
come  faintly  up  Archey  Road,  and  Mr. 
Hennessy  had  heard  of  it. 

"  I  hear  they're  goin'  to  hang  th'  aldher- 
men,"  he  said.  "  If  they  thry  it  on  Willum 
J.  O'Brien,  they'd  betther  bombard  him 
first.  I'd  hate  to  be  th'  man  that  'd  be 
called  to  roll  with  him  to  his  doom.  He 
cud  lick  th'  whole  Civic  Featheration." 

"  I  believe  ye,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "  He's 
a  powerful  man.  But  I  hear  there  is,  as  ye 
say,  what  th'  pa-apers  'd  call  a  movement 
on  fut  f 'r  to  dec'rate  Chris'mas  threes  with 
aldhermen,  an'  'tis  wan  that  ought  to  be 
encouraged.  Nawthin'  cud  be  happyer,  as 
Hogan  says,  thin  th'  thought  iv  cillybratin' 
th'  season  be  sthringin'  up  some  iv  th'  fathers 
iv  th'  city  where  th'  childher  cud  see  thim. 


24        HANGING  ALDERMEN 

But  I'm  afraid,  Hinnissy,  that  you  an'  me 
won't  see  it.  'Twill  all  be  over  soon,  an' 
Willum  J.  O'Brien  '11  go  by  with  his  head 
just  as  near  his  shoulders  as  iver.  'Tis 
har-rd  to  hang  an  aldherman,  annyhow. 
Ye'd  have  to  suspind  most  iv  thim  be  th' 
waist. 

"  Man  an'  boy,  I've  been  in  this  town 
forty  year  an'  more  ;  an'  divvle  th'  aldherman 
have  I  see  hanged  yet,  though  I've  sthrained 
th'  eyes  out  iv  me  head  watchin'  f 'r  wan  iv 
thim  to  be  histed  anny  pleasant  mornin'. 
They've  been  goin'  to  hang  thim  wan  week 
an'  presintin'  thim  with  a  dimon'  star  th' 
next  iver  since  th'  year  iv  th'  big  wind,  an' 
there's  jus'  as  manny  iv  thim  an'  jus'  as  big 
robbers  as  iver  there  was. 

"An'  why  shud  they  hang  thim,  Hin- 
nissy? Why  shud  they?  I'm  an  honest 
man  mesilf,  as  men  go.  Ye  might  have 
ye'er  watch,  if  ye  had  wan,  on  that  bar  f 'r  a 
year,  an'  I'd  niver  touch  it.  It  wudden't  be 
worth  me  while.  I'm  an  honest  man.  I 
pay  me  taxes,  whin  Tim  Ryan  isn't  assessor 


HANGING  ALDERMEN        25 

with  Grogan's  boy  on  th'  books.  I  do  me 
jooty ;  an'  I  believe  in  th'  polis  foorce, 
though  not  in  poHsmen.  That's  difF'rent. 
But  honest  as  I  am,  between  you  an'  me,  if 
I  was  an  aldherman,  I  wudden't  say,  be  hiv- 
ins,  I  think  I'd  stand  firm;  but  —  well,  if 
some  wan  come  to  me  an'  said,  '  Dooley, 
here's  fifty  thousan'  dollars  f 'r  ye'er  vote  to 
betray  th'  sacred  inthrests  iv  Chicago,'  I'd 
go  to  Father  Kelly  an'  ask  th'  prayers  iv 
th'  congregation. 

" 'Tis  not,  Hinnissy,  that  this  man  Yer- 
kuss  goes  up  to  an  aldherman  an'  says  out 
sthraight,  '  Here,  Bill,  take  this  bundle,  an' 
be  an  infamyous  scoundhrel.'  That's  th'  way 
th'  man  in  Mitchigan  Avnoo  sees  it,  but  'tis 
not  sthraight.  D'ye  mind  Dochney  that  was 
wanst  aldherman  here  ?  Ye  don't.  Well,  I 
do.  He  ran  a  little  conthractin'  business 
down  be  Halsted  Sthreet.  'Twas  him  built 
th'  big  shed  f 'r  th'  ice  comp'ny.  He  was  a 
fine  man  an'  a  sthrong  wan.  He  begun  his 
political  career  be  lickin'  a  plasthrer  be  th' 
name  iv  Egan,  a  man  that  had  th'  County 


26         HANGING  ALDERMEN 

Clare  thrip  an'  was  thought  to  be  th'  akel  iv 
anny  man  in  town.  Fr'm  that  he  growed 
till  he  bate  near  ivry  man  he  knew,  an'  be- 
come very  pop'lar,  so  that  he  was  sint  to 
th'  council.  Now  Dochney  was  an  honest 
an'  sober  man  whin  he  wint  in ;  but  wan  day 
a  man  come  up  to  him,  an'  says  he,  '  Ye 
know  that  ordhnance  Schwartz  inthrajooced?' 
'I  do,'  says  Dochney,  *  an  I'm  again  it. 
'Tis  a  swindle,'  he  says.  "  Well,'  says  th' 
la-ad,  '  they'se  five  thousan'  in  it  f 'r  ye,'  he 
says.  They  had  to  pry  Dochney  off  iv  him. 
Th'  nex'  day  a  man  he  knowed  well  come 
to  Dochney,  an'  says  he,  '  That's  a  fine 
ordhnance  iv  Schwartz.'  'It  is,  like  hell,' 
says  Dochney.  '  'Tis  a  plain  swindle,*  he 
says.  '  'Tis  a  good  thing  f 'r  th'  comp'nies,' 
says  this  man ;  *  but  look  what  they've  done 
f'r  th'  city,'  he  says,  'an  think,'  he  says, 
'  iv  th  widdies  an'  orphans,'  he  says,  '  that 
has  their  har-rd-earned  coin  invisted,'  he 
says.  An'  a  tear  rolled  down  his  cheek. 
'  I'm  an  orphan  mesilf,'  says  Dochney  ;  'an' 
as  f'r  th'  widdies,  anny  healthy  widdy  with 


HANGING  ALDERMEN        27 

sthieet-car  stock  ought  to  be  ashamed  iv 
hersilf  if  she's  a  widdy  long,'  he  says.  An' 
th*  man  wint  away. 

"  Now  Dochney  thought  he'd  put  th'  five 
thousan'  out  Iv  his  mind,  but  he  hadn't. 
He'd  on'y  laid  it  by,  an'  ivry  time  he  closed 
his  eyes  he  thought  iv  it.  'Twas  a  shame 
to  give  th'  comp'nies  what  they  wanted, 
but  th'  five  thousan'  was  a  lot  iv  money. 
'Twud  lift  th'  morgedge.  'Twud  clane  up 
th'  notes  on  th'  new  conthract.  'Twud 
buy  a  new  dhress  f'r  Mrs.  Dochney.  He 
begun  to  feel  sorrowful  f'r  th'  widdies  an' 
orphans.  '  Poor  things  !  '  says  he  to  him- 
silf,  says  he.  '  Poor  things,  how  they  must 
suffer ! '  he  says ;  'an'  I  need  th'  money. 
Th'  sthreet-car  comp'nies  is  robbers,'  he 
says;  'but  'tis  thrue  they've  built  up  th' 
city,'  he  says,  'an  th'  money'd  come  in 
handy,'  he  says.  '  No  wan  'd  be  hurted, 
annyhow,'  he  says;  'an',  sure,  it  ain't  a  bribe 
f'r  to  take  money  f'r  doin'  something  ye 
want  to  do,  annyhow,'  he  says.  '  Five  thou- 
san' widdies  an'  orphans,'  he  says ;  an'  he 
wint  to  sleep. 


28        HANGING  ALDERMEN 

"  That  was  th'  way  he  felt  whin  he  wint 
down  to  see  ol'  Simpson  to  renew  his  notes, 
an'  Simpson  settled  it.  '  Dochney,'  he  says, 
'  I  wisht  ye'd  pay  up,'  he  says.  *  I  need  th' 
money,'  he  says.  *  I'm  afraid  th'  council 
won't  pass  th'  Schwartz  ordhnance,'  he  says"; 
'  an'  it  manes  much  to  me,'  he  says.  *  Be 
th'  way,'  he  says,  '  how're  ye  goin'  to  vote 
on  that  ordhnance?'  he  says.  *I  dinnaw,* 
says  Dochney.  '  Well,'  says  Simpson 
(Dochney  tol'  me  this  himsilf ),  *  whin  ye 
find  out,  come  an'  see  me  about  th'  notes,' 
he  says.  An'  Dochney  wint  to  th'  meetin' ; 
an',  whin  his  name  was  called,  he  hollered 
*  Aye,'  so  loud  a  chunk  iv  plaster  fell  out 
iv  th'  ceilin'  an'  stove  in  th'  head  iv  a 
rayform  aldherman." 

"  Did  they  hang  him  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Hen- 
nessey. 

"  Faith,  they  did  not,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 
"  He  begun  missin'  his  jooty  at  wanst. 
Aldhermen  always  do  that  after  th'  first  few 
weeks.  *  Ye  got  ye'er  money,'  says  Father 
Kelly  ;    '  an'  much  good  may  it  do  ye,'  he 


HANGING  ALDERMEN        29 

says.  'Well,'  says  Dochney,  '  I'd  be  a  long 
time  prayin'  mesilf  into  five  thousan','  he 
says.  An'  he  become  leader  in  th'  council. 
Th'  las'  ordhnance  he  inthrojooced  was  wan 
establishin'  a  license  f'r  churches,  an'  com- 
pellin'  thim  to  keep  their  fr-ront  dure  closed 
an'  th'  blinds  drawn  on  Sundah.  He  was 
expelled  fr'm  th'  St.  Vincent  de  Pauls,  an' 
ilicted  a  director  iv  a  bank  th'  same  day. 

"  Now,  H^innissy,  that  there  man  niver 
knowed  he  was  bribed  —  th'  first  time.  Th' 
second  time  he  knew.  He  ast  f'r  it.  An' 
I  wudden't  hang  Dochney.  I  wudden't  if 
I  was  sthrong  enough.  But  some  day  I'm 
goin'  to  let  me  temper  r-run  away  with  me, 
an'  get  a  comity  together,  an'  go  out  an' 
hang  ivry  dam  widdy  an'  orphan  between 
th'  rollin'  mills  an'  th'  foundlin's'  home.  If 
it  wasn't  f'r  thim  raypechious  crathers,  they'd 
be  no  boodle  annywhere." 

"Well,  don't   forget   Simpson,"  said   Mr. 
Hennessy. 

"  I  won't,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.      "  I  won't." 


THE  GRIP. 

Mr.  Dooley  was  discovered  making  a 
seasonable  beverage,  consisting  of  one  part 
syrup,  two  parts  quinine,  and  fifteen  parts 
strong  waters. 

"What's  tile  matter?"  aslced  Mr.  Mc- 
Kenna. 

"  I  have  th'  lah  gr-rip,"  said  Mr.  Dooley, 
blowing  his  nose  and  wiping  his  eyes. 
"  Bad  cess  to  it !  Oh,  me  poor  back  !  I 
feels  as  if  a  dhray  had  run  over  it.  Did  ye 
iver  have  it?  Ye  did  not?  Well,  ye're 
lucky.     Ye're  a  lucky  man. 

"  I  wint  to  McGuire's  wake  las'  week. 
They  gave  him  a  dacint  sind-off.  No  por- 
ther.  An'  himsilf  looked  natural,  as  fine 
a  corpse  as  iver  Gavin  layed  out.  Gavin 
tould  me  so  himsilf  He  was  as  proud  iv 
McGuire  as  if  he  owned  him.  Fetched  half 
th'  town  in  to  look  at  him,  an'  give  ivry  wan 
iv  thim  cards.  He  near  frightened  ol'  man 
Dugan  into  a  faint.  '  Misther  Dugan,  how 
old    a-are    ye  ? '     '  Sivinty-five,    thanks    be,' 


THE  GRIP  31 

says  Dugan.  '  Thin,'  says  Gavin, '  take  wan 
iv  me  cards,'  he  says.  '  I  hope  ye'll  not 
forget  me,'    he   says. 

"  'Twas  there  I  got  th'  lah  grip.  Laste- 
wise,  it  is  me  opinion  iv  it,  though  th'  doc- 
thor  said  I  swallowed  a  bug.  It  don't  seem 
right,  Jawn,  fr  th'  McGuires  is  a  clane 
fam'ly  ;  but  th'  docthor  said  a  bug  got  into 
me  system.  *  What  sort  iv  bug?'  says  I. 
'A  lah  grip  bug,'  he  says.  '  Ye  have  Mick- 
robes  in  ye'er  lungs,'  he  says.  '  What's 
thim  ? '  says  I.  *  Thim's  th'  lah  grip  bugs,' 
says  he.  *  Ye  took  wan  in,  an'  warmed  it,' 
he  says  ;  *  an'  it  has  growed  an'  multiplied 
till  ye'er  system  does  be  full  iv'  thim,'  he 
says,  '  millions  iv  thim,'  he  says,  *  marchin' 
an'  counthermarchin'  through  ye.'  *  Glory 
be  to  the  saints  1 '  says  I.  'Had  I  better 
swallow  some  insect  powdher?'  I  says. 
*  Some  iv  thim  in  me  head  has  a  fallin'  out, 
an'  is  throwin'  bricks.'  '  Foolish  man,'  says 
he.  '  Go  to  bed,'  he  says,  '  an'  lave  thim 
alone,'  he  says.  '  Whin  they  find  who 
they're  in,'   he  says,  '  they'll  quit  ye.' 


32  THE  GRIP 

"  So  I  wint  to  bed,  an'  waited  while  th' 
Mickrobes  had  fun  with  me.  Mondah  all 
iv  thim  was  quite  but  thim  in  me  stummick. 
They  stayed  up  late  dhrinkin'  an'  carousin* 
an'  dancin'  jigs  till  wurruds  come  up  be- 
tween th'  Kerry  Mickrobes  an'  thim  fr'm 
Wexford  ;  an'  th'  whole  party  wint  over  to 
me  left  lung,  where  they  cud  get  th'  air,  an* 
had  it  out.  Th'  nex'  day  th'  little  Mick- 
robes made  a  toboggan  slide  iv  me  spine ; 
an'  manetime  some  Mickrobes  that  was 
wurkin'  f'r  th'  tilliphone  comp'ny  got  it  in 
their  heads  that  me  legs  was  poles,  an*  put 
on  their  spikes  an'  climbed  all  night  long. 

"  They  was  tired  out  th'  nex*  day  till 
about  five  o'clock,  whin  thim  that  was  in  me 
head  begin  flushin'  out  th'  rooms ;  an'  I 
knew  there  was  goin'  to  be  doin's  in  th' 
top  flat.  What  did  thim  Mickrobes  do  but 
invite  all  th'  other  Mickrobes  in  fr  th* 
ev'nin'.  They  all  come.  Oh,  by  gar,  they 
was  not  wan  iv  them  stayed  away.  At  six 
o'clock  they  begin  to  move  fr'm  me  shins  to 
me     throat.     They    come    in    platoons    an' 


THE  GRIP  33 

squads  an'  dhroves.  Some  Iv  thim  brought 
along  brass  bands,  an'  more  thin  wan  hun- 
dhred  thousand  iv  thim  dhruv  through  me 
pipes  on  dhrays.  A  throlley  Hne  was  started 
up  me  back,  an'  ivry  car  run  into  a  wagon- 
load  iv  scrap  iron  at  th'  base  iv  me  skull. 

"  Th'  Mickrobes  in  me  head  must  've 
done  thimsilves  proud.  Ivry  few  minyits 
th'  kids  'd  be  sint  out  with  th'  can,  an'  I'd 
say  to  mesilf:  'There  they  go,  carry  in'  th' 
thrade  to  Schwartzmeister's  because  I'm  sick 
an'  can't  wait  on  thim.'  I  was  daffy,  Jawn, 
d'ye  mind.  Th'  likes  iv  me  fillin'  a  pitcher 
f 'r  a  little  boy-bug  !  Such  dhreams  !  An' 
they  had  a  game  iv  forty-fives  ;  an'  there  was 
wan  Mickrobe  that  larned  to  play  th'  game 
in  th'  County  Tipp'rary,  where  'tis  played 
on  stone,  an'  ivry  time  he  led  thrumps  he'd 
like  to  knock  me  head  off.  '  Whose  thrick 
is  that? '  says  th'  Tipp'rary  Mickrobe.  *  'Tis 
mine,'  says  th'  red-headed  Mickrobe  fr'm 
th'  County  Roscommon.  They  tipped  over 
th'  chairs  an'  tables :  an',  in  less  time  thin 
it  takes   to   tell,  th'  whole  party  was   at   it. 


34  THE  GRIP 

They'd  been  a  hurlin'  game  in  th'  back  Iv 
me  skuli,  an'  th'  young  folks  was  dancin' 
breakdowns  an'  havin'  leppin'  matches  in  me 
forehead ;  but  they  all  stopped  to  mix  in. 
Oh,  'twas  a  grand  shindig  —  tin  milHons  iv 
men,  women,  an'  childher  rowlin'  on  th' 
flure,  hands  an'  feet  goin',  ice-picks  an' 
hurHn'  sticks,  clubs,  brickbats,  an'  beer  kags 
flyin'  in  th'  air  !  How  manny  iv  thim  was 
kilt  I  niver  knew  ;  f 'r  I  wint  as  daft  as  a  hen, 
an'  dhreamt  iv  organizin'  a  Mickrobe  Cam- 
paign Club  that  'd  sweep  th'  prim'ries,  an' 
maybe  go  acrost  an'  free  Ireland.  Whin  I 
woke  up,  me  legs  was  as  weak  as  a  day  old 
baby's,  an'  me  poor  head  impty  as  a  cobbler's 
purse.  I  want  no  more  iv  thim.  Give  me 
anny  bug  fr'm  a  cockroach  to  an  aygle  save 
an'  excipt  thim  West  iv  Ireland  Fenians,  th' 
Mickrobes." 


LEXOW. 

"This  here  wave  iv  rayform,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley,  "  this  here  wave  iv  rayform,  Jawn, 
mind  ye,  that's  sweepin'  over  th'  counthry, 
mind  ye,  now,  Jawn,  is  raisin'  th'  divvle,  I 
see  be  th'  pa-apers.  I've  seen  waves  iv  ray- 
form befure,  Jawn.  Whin  th'  people  iv  this 
counthry  gets  wurruked  up,  there's  no  stop- 
pin'  thim.  They'll  not  dhraw  breath  until 
ivry  man  that  took  a  dollar  iv  a  bribe  is 
sent  down  th'  r-road.  Thim  that  takes  two 
goes  on  th'  comity  iv  th'  wave  iv  rayform. 

"  It  sthruck  th'  r-road  las'  week.  Darcey, 
th'  new  polisman  on  th'  bate,  comes  in  here 
ivry  night  f 'r  to  study  spellin'  an'  figgers.  I 
think  they'll  throw  him  down,  whin  he  goes 
to  be  examined.  Wan  iv  th'  wild  la-ads 
down  be  th'  slough  hit  him  with  a  brick 
wanst,  an'  he  ain't  been  able  to  do  fractions 
since.  Thin  he's  got  inflammathry  rheuma- 
tism enough  to  burn  a  barn,  an'  he  can't 
turn  a  page  without  makin'  ye  think  he's 
goin'  to  lose  a  thumb.      He's  got  wife  an' 


36  LEXOW 

childher,  an'  he's  on  in  years  ;  but  he's  a 
poHsman,  an'  he's  got  to  be  rayformed.  I 
tell  him  all  I  can.  He  didn't  know  where 
St.  Pethersburg  was  till  I  tould  him  it  was 
th'  capital  iv  Sweden.  They'll  not  give  him 
th'  boots  on  that  there  question.  Ye  bet 
ye'er  life  they  won't,  Jawn. 

"  I  seen  th'  aldherman  go  by  yisterdah ; 
an'  he'd  shook  his  dimon 'stud,  an'  he  looked 
as  poor  as  a  dhrayman.  He's  rayformed. 
Th'  little  Dutchman  that  was  ilicted  to  th' 
legislachure  says  he  will  stay  home.  Says  I, 
*  Why  ? '  Says  he,  *  There's  nawthin'  in  it.' 
He's  rayformed.  Th'  wather  inspictor,  that 
used  to  take  a  dhrink  an'  a  segar  an'  report 
me  two  pipes  less  thin  I  have,  turned  me  in 
las'  week  f 'r  a  garden  hose  an'  a  ploonge 
bath.  He's  rayformed.  Th'  wave  iv  ray- 
form  has  sthruck,  an'  we're  all  goin'  around 
now  with  rubbers  on. 

"They've  organized  th'  Ar-rchey  Road 
Lexow  Sodality,  an'  'tis  th'  wan  institootion 
that  Father  Kelly  up  west  iv  th'  bridge  '11 
4i}rk  his  jiead  to.     All  th'  best  citizens  is  in 


LEXOW  37 

it.  Th'  best  citizens  is  thim  that  th'  statue 
iv  limitations  was  made  f  r.  Barrister 
Hogan  tol'  me  —  an'  a  dacint  man,  but  give 
to  dhrink  —  that,  whin  a  man  cud  hide  be- 
hind th'  statue  iv  limitations,  he  was  all 
r-right.  I  niver  seen  it.  Is  that  th'  wan  on 
th'  lake  front  ?  No,  tubby  sure,  tubby  sure. 
No  wan  'd  hide  behind  that. 

"  Th'  Ar-rchey  Road  Lexow  Sodality  is 
composed  iv  none  but  square  men.  They 
all  have  th'  coin,  Jawn.  A  man  that's 
broke  can't  be  square.  He's  got  too  much 
to  do  pay  in'  taxes.  If  I  had  a  million, 
divvle  th'  step  would  I  step  to  confession. 
I'd  make  th'  soggarth  come  an*  confess  to 
me.  They  say  that  th'  sthreets  iv  Hivin  was 
paved  with  goold.  I'll  bet  ye  tin  to  wan 
that  with  all  th'  square  men  that  goes  there 
ivry  year  they  have  ilecloth  down  now." 

"  Oh,  go  on,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  I  was  goin'  to  tell  ye  about  th'  Lexow 
Sodality.  Well,  th'  chairman  iv  it  is 
Doherty,  th'  retired  plumber.  He  sold  me 
a  house  an'  lot  wanst,  an'  skinned  me  out  iv 


38  LEXOW 

wan  hundherd  dollars.  He  got  th'  house 
an'  lot  back  an'  a  morgedge.  But  did  ye 
iver  notice  th'  scar  on  his  nose  ?  I  was 
r-rough  in  thim  days.  Ol'  Mike  Hogan  is 
another  mimber.  Ye  know  him.  They 
say  he  hires  constables  be  th'  day  f'r  to 
serve  five  days'  notices.  Manny's  th'  time 
I  see  th'  Httle  furniture  out  on  th'  sthreet, 
an'  th'  good  woman  rockin'  her  baby  under 
th'  open  sky.  Hogan's  tinants.  Ol'  Dinnis 
Higgins  is  another  wan.  An'  Brinnigan,  th' 
real  estate  dealer.  He  was  in  th'  assissors' 
office.  May  Gawd  forgive  him  !  An'  Clancy, 
that  was  bail-bondman  at  Twelfth  Sthreet. 

"They  appointed  comities,  an'  they  held 
a  meetin'.  1  wint  there.  So  did  some  iv 
th'  others.  'Twas  at  Finucane's,  an'  th' 
hall  was  crowded.  All  th'  sodality  made 
speeches.  Doherty  made  a  great  wan.  Th' 
air  was  reekin'  with  corruption,  says  he. 
Th'  polis  foorce  was  rotten  to  th'  core.  Th' 
rights  iv  property  was  threatened.  What, 
says  he,  was  we  goin'  to  do  about  it  ? 

"  Danny   Gallagher  got  up,  as  good  a  lad 


LEXOW  39 

as  iver  put  that  in  his  face  to  desthroy 
his  intelHgence,  as  Shakspere  says.  '  Gin- 
tlemen,'  says  he,  *wan  wurrud  befure  we 
lave,'  he  says.  *  I've  listened  to  th'  speeches 
here  to-night  with  satisfaction,'  he  says. 
'  I'm  proud  to  see  th'  ray  form  wave  have 
sthruck  th'  road,*  he  says.  '  Th'  rascals 
must  be  dhriven  fr'm  th'  high  places,'  he 
says.  *  I  see  befure  me  in  a  chair  a  gintle- 
man  who  wud  steal  a  red-hot  stove  an' 
freeze  th'  lid  befure  he  got  home.  On  me 
right  is  th'  gintleman  who  advanced  th' 
wave  iv  rayform  tin  years  ago  be  puttin' 
Mrs.  Geohegan  out  on  th'  sthreet  in  a  snow- 
storm whin  she  was  roarin'  with  a  cough. 
Mrs.  Geohegan  have  rayformed,  peace  be 
with  her  undher  th*  dhrifts  iv  Calv'ry  !  I 
am  greeted  be  th'  smile  iv  me  ol'  frind 
Higgins.  We  are  ol'  frinds,  Dinnis,  now, 
ain't  we?  D'ye  mind  th'  calls  I  made  on 
ye,  with  th'  stamps  undher  me  arms,  whin  I 
wurruked  in  th'  post-office?  I've  thought 
iv  thim  whin  th'  lockstep  was  goin*  in  to 
dinner,  an'  prayed   f'r  th'  day  whin  I  might 


40  LEXOW 

see  ye  again.  An'  you,  Misther  Brannigan, 
who  knows  about  vacant  lots,  an'  you 
Misther  Clancy,  th'  frind  iv  th'  dhrunk  an' 
disordherly,  we're  proud  to  have  ye  here. 
'Tis  be  such  as  ye  that  th'  polisman  who 
dhrinks  on  th'  sly,  an'  th'  saloon-keeper  that 
keeps  open  f  r  th'  la-ads  an'  th'  newsboys 
that  shoots  craps,  '11  be  brought  to  justice. 
Down  with  crime  !  says  I.  Fellow-citizens, 
I  thank  ye  kindly.  Th'  meetin'  is  adjourned 
siney  dee ;  an'  I  app'int  Missers  Dooley, 
O'Brien,  Casey,  Pug  Slattery,  an'  mesilf  to 
lade  out  th'  Lexow  Sodality  be  th'  nose.'  " 

Mr.  McKenna  arose  sleepily,  and  walked 
toward  the  door. 

"  Jawn,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 

"Yes,"  responded  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  Niver  steal  a  dure-mat,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley.  "  If  ye  do,  ye'll  be  invistigated, 
hanged,  an'  maybe  rayformed.  Steal  a  bank, 
me  boy,  steal  a  bank." 


THEIR    EXCELLENCIES,  THE 
POLICE. 

"  Ye'll  be  goin'  home  early  to-night,  Jawn 
dear,"  said  Mr.  Dooley  to  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  And  for  why  ? "  said  that  gentleman, 
tilting  lazily  back  in  the  chair. 

"  Because  gin'ral  ordher  number  wan  is 
out,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  directin'  th'  polls 
to  stop  ivry  man  catched  out  afther  midnight 
an'  make  thim  give  a  satisfacthry  account  iv 
thimsilves  or  run  thim  off  to  jail.  Iv  coorse, 
ye'll  be  pinched,  f 'r  ye  won't  dare  say  where 
ye  come  fr'm  ;  an'  'tis  twinty-eight  to  wan, 
the  odds  again  an  Orangeman  at  a  wake,  that 
ye'll  not  know  where  ye're  goin'." 

"Tut,  tut,"  said  Mr.  McKenna,  indiffer- 
ently. 

"  Ye  may  tut-tut  till  ye  lay  an  egg,"  said 
Mr.  Dooley,  severely,  "  ye  ol'  hen  ;  but  'tis 
so.  I  read  it  in  th'  pa-papers  yesterdah 
afthernoon  that  Brinnan  — 'tis  queer  how 
thim  Germans  all  get  to  be  polismin,  they're 
bright  men,  th'   Germans,  I   don't  think  — 


4i  THE  POLICE 

Brinnan  says,  says  he,  that  th'  city  do  be 
overrun  with  burglars  an'  highwaymen,  so 
he  ordhers  th'  polls  to  stick  up  ivry  pedes- 
threen  they  meet  afther  closin'  time.  'Tis 
good  for  him  he  named  th'  hour,  f 'r  'tis  few 
pedesthreens  save  an'  except  th'  little  kids 
with  panneckers  that  most  iv  th'  polis  meet 
befure  midnight.  Look  at  there  table,  will 
ye  ?  'An  ax  done  it,'  says  ye  ?  No,  faith, 
but  th'  fist  iv  a  Kerry  polisman  they  put  on 
this  here  bate  last  week.  He  done  it  ladin' 
thrumps.  '  Thank  Gawd,"  says  I,  *  ye  didn't 
have  a  good  hand,'  I  says,  '  or  I  might  have 
to  call  in  th'  wreckin'  wagon.'  Thim  Kerry 
men  shud  be  made  to  play  forty-fives  with 
boxin'-gloves  on. 

"  I  read  about  th'  ordher,  but  it  slipped 
me  min'  las'  night.  I  was  down  at  a  meetin' 
iv  th'  Hugh  O'Neills,  an'  a  most  intherestin' 
meetin'  It  was,  Jawn.  I'd  been  niglictful  iv 
me  jooty  to  th'  cause  iv  late,  an'  I  was  sur- 
prised an'  shocked  to  hear  how  poor  ol'  Ire- 
land was  sufferin'.  Th'  rayport  fr'm  th' 
Twinty-third  Wa-ard,  which  is  in  th'  County 


I 


THE  POLICE  43 

Mayo,  showed  that  th'  sthreet  clanin'  con- 
thract  had  been  give  to  a  Swede  be  th'  name 
iv  Oleson  ;  an'  over  in  th'  Nineteenth  Wa-ard 
th'  County  Watherford  is  all  stirred  up  be- 
cause Johnny  Powers  is  filled  th'  pipe-ya-ard 
with  his  own  rilitives.  I  felt  dam  lonely, 
an'  with  raison^  too  ;  f  r  I  was  th'  on'y  man 
in  th'  camp  that  didn't  have  a  job.  An'  says 
I,  *  Gintlemen,'  says  I,  'can't  1  do  some- 
thing f  r  Ireland,  too  r'  I  says.  '  I'd  make  a 
gr-reat  city  threasurer,'  says  I,  Mf  ye've  th' 
job  handy,'  I  says ;  and  at  that  they  give  me 
th'  laugh,  and  we  tuk  up  a  subscription  an' 
adjourned. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  started  up  Ar-rchey  Road 
afther  th'  meetin',  forgettin'  about  Brennan's 
ordhers,  whin  a  man  jumps  out  fr'm  behind 
a  tree  near  th'  gas-house.  '  Melia  murther ! ' 
says  I  to  mesilf.  *  'Tis  a  highwayman ! ' 
Thin,  puttin'  on  a  darin'  front  an'  reachin' 
f 'r  me  handkerchief,  I  says,  '  Stand  back, 
robber  ! '  I  says.  '  Stand  back,  robber  ! '  1 
says.     '  Stand  back  !  '   I  says. 

" '  Excuse  ;«^,'  says  th'  la-ad.  *  I  beg 
ye'er  pardon,'  he  says. 


44  THE  POLICE 

"'Beg  th'  pardon  iv  Hiven,'  says  I,  *  f 'r 
stoppin'  a  desperate  man  In  th'  sthreet,'  says 
I;  *  f  r  in  a  holy  minyit  I'll  blow  off  th' 
head  iv  ye,'  says  I,  with  me  hand  on  th' 
handkerchief  that  niver  blew  nawthin'  but 
this  nose  iv  mine." 

"  *  I  humbly  ask  your  pardon,'  he  says, 
showin'  a  star ;  *  but  I'm  a  polisman.' 

"'Polisman  or  robber,'  says  I,  'stand 
aside  ! '  I  says. 

"  *  I'm  a  polisman,'  he  says,  'an'  I'm 
undher  ordhers  to  be  polite  with  citizens  I 
stop,'  he  says  ;  '  but,  if  ye  don't  duck  up  that 
road  in  half  a  minyit,  ye  poy-faced,  red- 
eyed,  lop-eared,  thick-headed  ol'  bosthoon,' 
he  says,  *  I'll  take  ye  be  th'  scruff  iv  th'  neck 
an'  thrun  ye  into  th'  ga-as-house  tank,'  he 
says,  'if  I'm  coort-martialed  f'r  it  to- 
morrow.' 

"  Thin  I  knew  he  was  a  polisman  ;  an'  I 
wint  away,  Jawn." 


SHAUGHNESSY. 

"  Jawn,"  said  Mr.  Dooley  in  the  course 
of  the  conversation,  "  whin  ye  come  to  think 
iv  it,  th'  heroes  iv  th'  wurruld, —  an'  be  thim 
I  mean  th'  lads  that've  buckled  on  th'  gloves, 
an'  gone  out  to  do  th'  best  they  cud, —  they 
ain't  in  it  v/ith  th'  quite  people  nayether  you 
nor  me  hears  tell  iv  fr'm  wan  end  iv  th'  year 
to  another." 

"I  believe  it,"  said  Mr.  McKenna  ;  "for 
my  mother  told  me  so." 

"Sure,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  I  know  it  is 
an  old  story.  Th'  wurruld's  been  full  iv  it 
fr'm  th'  beginnin' ;  an'  '11  be  full  iv  it  till, 
as  Father  Kelly  says,  th'  pay-roll's  closed. 
But  I  was  thinkin'  more  iv  it  th'  other 
night  thin  iver  befure,  whin  I  wint  to  see 
Shaughnessy  marry  off  his  on'y  daughter. 
You  know  Shaughnessy, —  a  quite  man  that 
come  into  th'  road  befure  th'  fire.  He 
wurruked  f'r  Larkin,  th'  conthractor,  f'r 
near  tvanty  years  without  skip  or  break,  an' 
seen    th'    fam'ly    grow   up    be    candk-Hght, 


46  SHAUGHNESSY 

Th'  oldest  boy  was  intinded  f'r  a  priest. 
'Tis  a  poor  fam'ly  that  hasn't  some  wan 
that's  bein'  iddycated  f'r  the  priesthood 
while  all  th'  rest  wear  thimsilves  to  skeletons 
f'r  him,  an'  call  him  Father  Jawn  'r  Father 
Mike  whin  he  comes  home  wanst  a  year, 
light-hearted  an'  free,  to  eat  with  thim. 

"  Shaughnessy's  lad  wint  wrong  in  his 
lungs,  an'  they  fought  death  f'r  him  f'r  five 
years,  sindin'  him  out  to  th'  Wist  an'  havin' 
masses  said  f'r  him  ;  an',  poor  divvle,  he  kept 
comin'  back  cross  an'  crool,  with  th'  fire  in 
his  cheeks,  till  wan  day  he  laid  down,  an' 
says  he  :  '  Pah,'  he  says,  '  I'm  goin'  to  give 
up,'  he  says.  '  An'  I  on'y  ask  that  ye'll 
have  th'  mass  sung  over  me  be  some  man 
besides  Father  Kelly,'  he  says.  An'  he 
wint,  an'  Shaughnessy  come  clumpin'  down 
th'  aisle  like  a  man  in  a  thrance. 

"  Well,  th'  nex'  wan  was  a  girl,  an'  she 
didn't  die;  but,  th'  less  said,  th'  sooner 
mended.  Thin  they  was  Terrence,  a  big, 
bould,  curly-headed  lad  that  cocked  his  hat 
at  anny  m^an, —  or  woman  f'r  th'  matter  iv 


SHAUGHNESSY  47 

that, —  an'  that  bruk  th'  back  iv  a  polisman 
an'  swum  to  th'  crib,  an'  was  champeen  iv 
th'  South  Side  at  hand  ball.  An'  he  wint. 
Thin  th'  good  woman  passed  away.  An' 
th'  twins  they  growed  to  be  th'  prettiest  pair 
that  wint  to  first  communion ;  an'  wan  night 
they  was  a  light  in  th'  window  of  Shaugh- 
nessy's  house  till  three  in  th'  mornin'.  I 
raymimber  it ;  f 'r  I  had  quite  a  crowd  iv 
Willum  Joyce's  men  in,  an'  we  wondhered 
at  it,  an'  wint  home  whin  th'  lamp  in 
Shaughnessy's  window  was  blown  out. 

"  They  was  th'  wan  girl  left, —  Theresa, 
a  big,  clean-lookin'  child  that  I  see  grow  up 
fr'm  hello  to  good  avnin'.  She  thought 
on'y  iv  th'  ol'  man,  an'  he  leaned  on  her  as 
if  she  was  a  crutch.  She  was  out  to  meet 
him  in  th'  evnin' ;  an'  in  th'  mornin'  he,  th' 
simple  ol'  man,  'd  stop  to  blow  a  kiss  at  her 
an'  wave  his  dinner-pail,  lookin'  up  an'  down 
th*  r-road  to  see  that  no  wan  was  watchin' 
him. 

"  I  dinnaw  what  possessed  th'  young 
Donahue,    fr'm     th*     Nineteenth.      I    niver 


48  SHAUGHNESSY 

thought  much  W  him,  a  stuck-up,  aisy-come 
la-ad  that  niver  had  annything  but  a  civil 
wurrud,  an'  is  prisident  iv  th'  sodality.  But 
he  came  in,  an'  married  Theresa  Shaughnessy 
las'  Thursdah  night.  Th'  ol'  man  took  on 
twinty  years,  but  he  was  as  brave  as  a  gin'ral 
iv  th'  army.  He  cracked  jokes  an'  he  made 
speeches ;  an'  he  took  th'  pipes  fr'm  under 
th'  elbow  iv  Hogan,  th'  blindman,  an' 
played  '  Th'  Wind  that  shakes  th'  Barley ' 
till  ye'd  have  wore  ye'er  leg  to  a  smoke  f 'r 
wantin'  to  dance.  Thin  he  wint  to  th'  dure 
with  th'  two  iv  thim  ;  an'  says  he,  *  Well,' 
he  says,  *  Jim,  be  good  to  her,'  he  says,  an' 
shook  hands  with  her  through  th'  carredge 
window. 

"  Him  an'  me  sat  a  long  time  smokin' 
across  th'  stove.  Fin'lly,  says  I,  'Well,' 
I  says,  '  I  must  be  movin'.'  *  What's  th' 
hurry?'  says  he.  *  I've  got  to  go,'  says  1. 
*  Wait  a  moment,'  says  he.  '  Theresa  '11 ' — 
He  stopped  right  there  f '  r  a  m.inyit,  holdin' 
to  th'  back  iv  th'  chair.  *  Well,'  says  he, 
*if  ye've  got  to  go,  ye  must,'  he  says.     *  I'll 


SHAUGHNESSY  49 

show  ye  out,'  he  says.  An'  he  come  with 
me  to  th'  dure,  holdin'  th'  lamp  over  his 
head.  I  looked  back  at  him  as  I  wint  by ; 
an'  he  was  settin'  be  th'  stove,  with  his 
elbows  on  his  knees  an'  th'  empty  pipe 
between  his  teeth." 


TIMES  PAST. 

Mr.  McKenna,  looking  very  warm  and 
tired,  came  in  to  Mr,  Dooley's  tavern  one 
night  last  week,  and  smote  the  bar  with  his 
fist. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Hogan  ? "  he 
said. 

"What  Hogan?"  asked  Mr.  Dooley. 
"Malachy  or  Matt?  Dinnis  or  Mike? 
Sarsfield  or  William  Hogan  ?  There's  a 
Hogan  f'r  ivry  block  in  th'  Ar-rchey 
Road,  an'  wan  to  spare.  There's  nawthin' 
th'  matter  with  anny  iv  thim ;  but,  if  ye 
mean  Hogan,  th'  liquor  dealer,  that  r-run 
f'r  aldherman,  I'll  say  to  ye  he's  all  right. 
Mind  ye,  Jawn,  I'm  doin'  this  because  ye're 
me  frind ;  but,  by  gar,  if  anny  wan  else 
comes  in  an'  asks  me  that  question,  I'll  kill 
him,  if  I  have  to  go  to  th'  bridewell  f'r  it. 
I'm  no  health  officer." 

Having  delivered  himself  of  this  tirade, 
Mr.  Dooley  scrutinized  Mr.  McKenna 
sharply,   and  continued:    "  Ye've   been   out 


TIMES  PAST  51 

ilictin'  some  man,  Jawn,  an'  ye  needn't  deny 
it.  1  seen  it  th'  minyit  ye  come  in.  Ye'er 
hat's  dinted,  an'  ye  have  ye'er  necktie  over 
ye'er  ear ;  an'  I  see  be  ye'er  hand  ye've  hit 
a  Dutchman.  Jawn,  ye  know  no  more  about 
pohtics  thin  a  mimber  iv  this  here  Civic  Feath- 
eration.  Didn't  ye  have  a  beer  bottle  or  an 
ice-pick  ?  Ayether  iv  thim  is  good,  though, 
whin  I  was  a  young  man  an'  precint  captain 
an'  intherested  in  th'  welfare  iv  th'  counthry, 
I  found  a  couplin'  pin  in  a  stockin'  about  as 
handy  as  annything. 

"  Thim  days  is  over,  though,  Jawn,  an' 
between  us  politics  don't  intherest  me  no 
more.  They  ain't  no  liveliness  in  thim. 
Whin  Andy  Duggan  r-run  f'r  aldherman 
against  Schwartzmeister,  th'  big  Dutchman, 
—  I  was  precinct  captain  then,  Jawn, —  there 
was  an  iliction  f'r  ye.  'Twas  on  our  precinct 
they  relied  to  ilict  Duggan  ;  f'r  the  Dutch 
was  sthrong  down  be  th'  thrack,  an'  Schwartz- 
meister had  a  band  out  playin'  '  Th'  Watch 
on  th'  Rhine.'  Well,  sir,  we  opened  th' 
polls  at  six  o'clock,  an'  there  was  tin  Schwartz- 


52  TIMES  PAST 

meister  men  there  to  protect  his  intherests. 
At  sivin  o'clock  there  was  only  three,  an' 
wan  iv  thim  was  goin'  up  th'  sthreet  with 
Hinnissy  kickin'  at  him.  At  eight  o'clock, 
be  dadj'there  was  on'y  wan  ;  an'  he  was  sittin' 
on  th'  roof  iv  Gavin's  blacksmith  shop,  an' 
th'  la-ads  was  thryin'  to  borrow  a  laddher 
fr'm  th'  injine-house  f'r  to  get  at  him. 
'Twas  thruck  eighteen  ;  an'  Hogan,  that  was 
captain,  wudden't  let  thim  have  it.  Not  ye'er 
Hogan,  Jawn,  but  th'  meanest  fireman  in 
Bridgeport.  He  got  kilt  aftherwards.  He 
wudden't  let  th'  la-ads  have  a  laddher,  an'  th' 
Dutchman  stayed  up  there ;  an',  whin  there 
was  nawthin'  to  do,  we  wint  over  an'  thrun 
bricks  at  him.      'Twas  gr-reat  sport. 

"  About  four  in  th'  afthernoon  Schwartz- 
meister's  band  come  up  Ar-rchey  Road, 
playin'  '  Th'  Watch  on  th'  Rhine.'  Whin 
it  got  near  Gavin's,  big  Peter  Nolan  tuk  a 
runnin'  jump,  an'  landed  feet  first  in  th'  big 
bass  dhrum.  Th'  man  with  th'  dhrum  wal- 
loped him  over  th'  head  with  th'  dhrum- 
stick,  an'  Dorsey   Quinn  wint  over  an'  tuk 


TIMES  PAST  S3 

a  slide  trombone  away  fr'm  the  musician  an' 
clubbed  th'  bass  dhrum  man  with  it.  Thin 
we  all  wint  over,  an'  ye  niver  see  th'  like  in 
ye'er  born  days.  Th'  las'  I  see  iv  th'  band 
it  was  goin'  down  th'  road  towards  th' 
slough  with  a  mob  behind  it,  an'  all  th'  polls 
foorce  fr'm  Deerin'  Sthreet  afther  th'  mob. 
Th'  la-ads  collected  th'  horns  an  th'  dhrums, 
an'  that  started  th'  Ar-rchey  Road  brass 
band.  Little  Mike  Doyle  larned  to  play 
'  Th'  Rambler  fr'm  Clare '  beautifully  on 
what  they  call  a  pickle-e-o  befure  they  sarved 
a  rayplivin  writ  on  him. 

"  We  cast  twinty-wan  hundherd  votes  f 'r 
Duggan,  an'  they  was  on'y  five  hundherd 
votes  in  th'  precinct.  We'd  cast  more,  but 
th'  tickets  give  out.  They  was  tin  votes  in 
th'  box  f'r  Schwartzmeister  whin  we  counted 
up ;  an'  I  felt  that  mortified  I  near  died,  me 
bein'  precinct  captain,  an'  res-sponsible. 
*  What  '11  we  do  with  thim  ?  Out  th'  window,' 
says  I.  Just  thin  Dorsey's  nanny-goat  that 
died  next  year  put  her  head  through  th' 
dure.     *  Monica,'  says  Dorsey  (he  had  pretty 


54  TIMES  PAST 

names  for  all  his  goats),  '  Monica,  are  ye 
hungry,*  he  says,  '  ye  poor  dear  ?  *  Th' 
goat  give  him  a  pleadin'  look  out  iv  her  big 
brown  eyes.  *  Can't  I  make  ye  up  a  nice 
supper  ?  *  says  Dorsey.  '  Do  ye  like  paper? ' 
he  says.  *  Would  ye  like  to  help  desthroy  a 
Dutchman,'  he  says,  '  an'  perform  a  sarvice 
f 'r  ye'er  counthry  ? '  he  says.  Thin  he  wint 
out  in  th'  next  room,  an'  come  back  with  a 
bottle  iv  catsup ;  an'  he  poured  it  on  th' 
Schwartzmeister  ballots,  an'  Monica  et  thim 
without  winkin'. 

"  Well,  sir,  we  ilicted  Duggan  ;  an'  what 
come  iv  it .?  Th'  week  befure  iliction  he 
was  in  me  house  ivry  night,  an'  'twas 
'  Misther  Dooley,  this,'  an'  '  Mr.  Dooley, 
that,'  an'  '  What  '11  ye  have,  boys  ?  *  an' 
*  Niver  mind  about  th'  change.'  1  niver  see 
hide  nor  hair  iv  him  f 'r  a  week  afther  ilic- 
tion. Thin  he  come  with  a  plug  hat  on,  an' 
says  he  :  *  Dooley,'  he  says,  '  give  me  a  shell 
iv  beer,'  he  says  :  '  give  me  a  shell  iv  beer,' 
he  says,  layin'  down  a  nickel.  *  I  suppose 
ye're  on  th'  sub-scription,'  he  says.     '  What 


TIMES  PAST  S5 

for? '  says  I.  '  F  'r  to  buy  me  a  goold  star,' 
says  he.  With  that  I  eyes  him,  an'  says  I  : 
*  Duggan,'  I  says,  '  I  knowed  ye  whin  ye 
didn't  have  a  coat  to  ye'er  back,'  I  says,  *  an' 
I'll  buy  no  star  f 'r  ye,'  I  says.  '  But  I'll 
tell  ye  what  I'll  buy  f  r  ye,'  I  says.  'I'll  buy 
rayqueem  masses  f'r  th'  raypose  iv  ye'er 
sowl,  if  ye  don't  duck  out  iv  this  in  a  min- 
yit.'  Whin  I  seen  him  last,  he  was  back 
dhrivin'  a  dhray  an'  atin'  his  dinner  out  iv  a 
tin  can." 


THE    SKIRTS   OF    CHANCE. 

The  people  of  Bridgeport  are  not  solici- 
tous of  modern  improvements,  and  Mr. 
Dooley  views  with  distaste  the  new  and 
garish.  But  he  coiisented  to  install  a  nickel- 
in-the-slot  machine  in  his  tavern  last  week, 
and  it  was  standing  on  a  table  when  Mr. 
McKenna  came  in.  It  was  a  machine  that 
looked  like  a  house ;  and,  when  you  put  a 
nickel  in  at  the  top  of  it,  either  the  door 
opened  and  released  three  other  nickels  or  it 
did  not.     Mostly  it  did  not. 

Mr.  Dooley  saluted  Mr.  McKenna  with 
unusual  cordiahty,  and  Mr.  McKenna  in- 
spected the  nickel-in-the-slot  machine  with 
affectation  of  much  curiosity. 

"  What's  this  you  have  here,  at  all  ? " 
said  Mr.   McKenna. 

"  'Tis  an  aisy  way  iv  gettin'  rich,"  said 
Mr.  Dooley.  "  All  ye  have  to  do  is  to 
dhrop  a  nickel  in  th'  slot,  an'  three  other 
nickels  come  out  at  th'  dure.  Ye  can  play 
it  all  afthernoon,  an'  take  a  fortune  fr'm  it 
if  ye'er  nickels  hould  out." 


THE  SKIRTS  OF  CHANCE     57 

"  And  where  do  th'  nickels  come  fr'm  ?  " 
asked  Mr.  McKenna. 

"I  put  thim  in,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "  Ivry 
twinty  minutes  I  feed  th'  masheen  a  hatful 
iv  nickels,  so  that  whin  me  frinds  dhrop  in 
they  won't  be  dissypinted,  d'ye  mind.  'Tis 
a  fine  invistment  for  a  young  man.  Little 
work  an'  large  profits.  It  ray  minds  me  iv 
Elogan's  big  kid  an'  what  he  done  with  his 
coin.  He  made  a  lot  iv  it  in  dhrivin'  a 
ca-ar,  he  did,  but  he  blew  it  all  in  again 
good  liquor  an'  bad  women;  an',  bedad,  he 
was  broke  half  th'  time  an'  borrowin'  th* 
other  half  So  Hogan  gets  in  Father  Kelly 
fr'm  up  west  iv  th'  bridge,  an'  they  set  in 
with  Dinnis  to  talk  him  out  iv  his  spind- 
thrift  ways.  '  I  have  plenty  to  keep  mesilf,' 
says  Hogan,  he  says.  '  But,'  he  says,  *  I 
want  ye  to  save  ye'er  money,'  he  says,  '  f 'r 
a  rainy  day.'  '  He's  right,  Dinnis,'  says  th' 
soggarth, — '  he's  right,'  he  says.  *  Ye  should 
save  a  little  in  case  ye  need  it,'  he  says. 
'  Why  don't  ye  take  two  dollars,'  says  th' 
priest,  'an'  invist  it    ivry  month,'   says  he. 


58     THE  SKIRTS  OF  CHANCE 

*  in  somethin','  says  he,  '  that'll  give  ye 
profits,'  says  he.  'I'll  do  it,'  says  Dinnis, — 
'  I'll  do  it,'  he  says.  Well,  sir,  Hogan  was 
that  tickled  he  give  th'  good  man  five  bones 
out  iv  th'  taypot ;  but,  faith,  Dinnis  was 
back  at  his  reg'lar  game  before  th'  week 
was  out,  an',  afther  a  month  or  two,  whin 
Hogan  had  to  get  th'  tayspoons  out  iv  soak, 
he  says  to  th'  kid,  he  says,  '  I  thought  ye 
was  goin'  to  brace  up,'  he  says,  '  an'  here 
ye're  burnin'  up  ye'er  money,'  he  says. 
'  Didn't  ye  promise  to  invist  two  dollars 
ivry  month.?'  he  says.  '  I'm  doin'  it,'  says 
Dinnis.  '  I've  kept  me  wurrud.'  '  An'  what 
are  ye  invistin'  it  in?'  says  Hogan.  'In 
lotthry  tickets,'  says  th'  imp'dent  kid." 

While  delivering  these  remarks,  Mr. 
Dooley  was  peeping  over  his  glasses  at 
Mr.  McKenna,  who  was  engaged  in  a 
struggle  with  the  machine.  He  dropped  a 
nickel  and  it  rattled  down  the  slot,  but  it 
did  not  open  the  door. 

"  Doesn't  it  open  ?  "  said  Mr.  Dooley. 

"  It  does  not." 


THE  SKIRTS  OF  CHANCE     59 

"  Shake  It  thin,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 
"  Something  must  be  wrong." 

Mr.  McKenna  shook  the  machine  when 
he  inserted  the  next  nickel,  but  there  was 
no  compensatory  flow  of  coins  from  the 
door. 

"  Perhaps  the  money  is  bad,"  suggested 
Mr.  Dooley.  "  It  won't  open  fr  bad 
money." 

Thereupon  he  returned  to  his  newspaper, 
observing  which  Mr.  McKenna  drew  from 
his  pocket  a  nickel  attached  to  a  piece  of 
string  and  dropped  it  into  the  slot  repeat- 
edly. After  a  while  the  door  popped  open, 
and  Mr.  McKenna  thrust  in  his  hand  ex- 
pectantly. There  was  no  response,  and  he 
turned  in  great  anger  to  Mr.  Dooley. 

"  There  ain't  any  money  there,"  he  said. 

"Ye're  right,  Jawn,"  responded  Mr. 
Dooley.  "  If  ye  expect  to  dhraw  anny  coin 
fr'm  that  there  masheen,  ye  may  call  on  some 
iv  ye'er  rough  frinds  down  town  f  r  a  brace 
an'  bit  an'  a  jimmy.  Jawn,  me  la-ad,  I  see 
th'  nickel  with  th'  string  befure  ;  an',  to  pro- 


6o     THE  SKIRTS  OF  CHANCE 

vide  again  it,  I  improved  th'  masheen,  Thim 
nickels  ye  dhropped  in  are  all  in  th'  dhrawer 
iv  that  there  table,  an'  to-morrow  mornin'  ye 
may  see  me  havin'  me  hair  cut  be  means  iv 
thim.  An'  I'll  tell  ye  wan  thing,  Jawn 
McKenna,  an'  that's  not  two  things,  that  if  ye 
think  ye  can  come  up  here  to  Ar-rchey  Road 
an*  rob  an  honest  man,  by  gar,  ye've  made 
th'  mistake  iv  ye'er  life.  Goowan,  now, 
befure  I  call  a  polisman." 

Mr.  McKenna  stopped  at  the  door  only 
long  enough  to  shake  his  fist  at  the  proprietor, 
who  responded  with  a  grin  of  pure  content- 
ment. 


WHEN  THE  TRUST  IS  AT  WORK. 

"  Which  d'ye  think  makes  th'  best  fun'ral 
turnout,  th'  A-ho-aitches  or  th'  Saint  Vin- 
cent de  Pauls,  Jawn?"  asked  Mr.  Dooley. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 
"  Are  you  thinking  of  leaving  us  ?  " 

"  Faith,  I  am  not,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 
"  Since  th'  warm  weather's  come  an'  th' 
wind's  in  th'  south,  so  that  I  can  tell  at 
night  that  A-armoor  an'  me  ol'  frind,  Jawn 
Brinnock,  are  attindin'  to  business,  I  have  a 
grip  on  life  like  th'  wan  ye  have  on  th' 
shank  iv  that  shell  iv  malt.  Whether  'tis 
these  soft  days,  with  th'  childher  beginnin' 
to  play  barefutted  in  th'  sthreet  an'  th'  good 
women  out  to  palaver  over  th'  fence  without 
their  shawls,  or  whether  'tis  th'  wan  wurrud 
Easter  Sundah  that  comes  on  me,  an'  jolts 
me  up  with  th'  thoughts  iv  th'  la-ads  goin' 
to  mass  an'  th'  blackthorn  turnin'  green 
beyant,  I  dinnaw.  But  annyhow  I'm  as  gay 
as  a  babby  an'  as  fresh  as  a  lark.      I  am  so. 

"  I     was     on'y    thinkin'.       Ol'    Gran'pah 


62        THE  TRUST  AT  WORK 

Grogan  died  las'  Mondah, —  as  good  a  man 
as  e'er  counted  his  beads  or  passed  th'  plate. 
A  thrue  man.  Choosdah  a  Connock  man 
up  back  iv  th'  dumps  laid  down  th'  shovel. 
Misther  Grogan  had  a  grand  notice  in  th' 
pa-apers  :  '  Grogan,  at  his  late  risidence,  279 
A-archoor  Avnoo,  Timothy  Alexander,  be- 
loved husband  iv  th'  late  Mary  Grogan, 
father  iv  Maurice,  Michael,  Timothy,  Ed- 
ward, James,  Peter,  Paul,  an'  Officer  Andrew 
Grogan,  iv  Cologne  Sthreet  station^  an'  iv 
Mrs.  Willum  Sarsfield  Cassidy,  nee  Grogan' 
(which  manes  that  was  her  name  befure  she 
marrid  Cassidy,  who  wurruks  down  be 
Haley's  packin'-house).  '  Fun'ral  be  car- 
riages fr'm  his  late  risidence  to  Calv'ry  cim- 
ithry.  Virginia  City,  Nivada;  St.  Joseph, 
Mitchigan  ;  an'  Clonmel  Tipp'rary  pa-apers 
please  copy.' 

"  I  didn't  see  e'er  a  nee  about  th'  fam'ly 
iv  th'  little  man  back  iv  th'  dumps,  though 
maybe  he  had  wan  to  set  aroun'  th'  fire  in 
th'  dark  an'  start  at  th'  tap  iv  a  heel  on  th' 
dure-step.      Mebbe    he   had  a   fam'ly,  poor 


THE  TRUST  AT  WORK        6^, 

things,  A  fun'ral  is  great  la-arks  f'r  th' 
neighbors,  an'  'tis  not  so  bad  f'r  th'  corpse. 
But  in  these  times,  Jawn  dear,  a-ho  th*  gray 
hearts  left  behind  an'  th'  hungry  mouths  to 
feed.  They  done  th'  best  they  cud  f'r  th' 
Connock  man  back  iv  th'  dumps, —  give  him 
all  th'  honors,  th*  A-ho-aitches  ma-archin* 
behind  th'  hearse  an'  th'  band  playin'  th* 
Dead  March.  'Twas  almost  as  good  a 
turnout  as  Grogan  had,  though  th'  Saint 
Vincents  had  betther  hats  an'  looked  more 
like  their  fam'lies  kept  a  cow. 

"  But  they  was  two  hacks  back  iv  th* 
pall-bearers.  I  wondhered  what  was  passin* 
behind  th'  faces  I  seen  again  their  windys. 
'Twas  well  f'r  himself,  too.  Little  odds  to 
him,  afther  th*  last  screw  was  twisted  be 
Gavin's  ol'  yellow  hands,  whether  beef  was 
wan  cint  or  a  hundherd  dollars  th'  pound. 
But  there's  comin'  home  as  well  as  goin'  out. 
There's  more  to  a  fun'ral  thin  th'  lucks  par- 
pitua,  an'  th'  clod  iv  sullen  earth  on  th'  top 
iv  th'  crate.  Sare  a  pax  vobiscum  is  there 
f'r    thim    that*s    huddled    in    th'    ol'    hack, 


64        THE  TRUST  AT  WORK 

sthragglin'    home   in   th'   dust   to  th'  empty 
panthry  an'  th'  fireless  grate. 

"Mind  ye,  Jawn,  I've  no  wurrud  to  say 
again  thim  that  sets  back  in  their  own  house 
an'  lot  an'  makes  th'  food  iv  th'  people  dear. 
They're  good  men,  good  men.  Whin  they 
tilt  th'  price  iv  beef  to  where  wan  pound  iv 
it  costs  as  much  as  manny  th'  man  in  this 
Ar-rchey  Road  'd  wurruk  fr'm  th'  risin'  to 
th'  settin'  iv  th'  sun  to  get,  they  have  no 
thought  iv  th'  likes  iv  you  an'  me.  'Tis 
aisy  come,  aisy  go  with  thim ;  an'  ivry  cint 
a  pound  manes  a  new  art  musoom  or  a  new 
church,  to  take  th'  edge  off  hunger.  They're 
all  right,  thim  la-ads,  with  their  own  pork- 
chops  delivered  free  at  th'  door.  'Tis, 
*  Will  ye  have  a  new  spring  dhress,  me  dear  ? 
Willum,  ring  thim  up,  an'  tell  thim  to  hist 
th'  price  iv  beef.  If  we  had  a  few  more 
pitchers  an*  statoos  in  th'  musoom,  'twud 
ilivate  th'  people  a  sthory  or  two.  Willum, 
afther  this  steak  '11  be  twinty  cints  a  pound.' 
Oh,  they're  all  right,  on'y  I  was  thinkin' 
iv  th'  Connock  man's  fam'ly  back  iv  th' 
dumps." 


THE  TRUST  AT  WORK        6^ 

"  For  a  man  that  was  gay  a  little  while 
ago,  it  looks  to  me  as  if  you'd  grown  mighty 
solemn-like,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  Mebbe  so,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "  Mebbe 
so.  What  th'  'ell,  annyhow.  Mebbe  'tis  as 
bad  to  take  champagne  out  iv  wan  man's 
mouth  as  round  steak  out  iv  another's. 
Lent  is  near  over,  1  seen  Doherty  out 
shinin'  up  his  pipe  that's  been  behind  th' 
clock  since  Ash  Winsdah.  Th'  girls  '11 
be  layin'  lilies  on  th'  altar  in  a  day  or  two. 
Th'  spring's  come  on.  Th'  grass  is  growin' 
good ;  an',  if  th'  Connock  man's  children 
back  iv  th'  dumps  can't  get  meat,  they  can 
eat  hay." 


A   BRAND   FROM   THE  BURNING. 

"  I  SEE  be  th'  pa-apers/'  said  Mr.  Dooley, 
"  that  Boss  have  flew  th'  coop.  'Tis  too 
bad,  too  bad.     He  wa-as  a  gr-reat  man." 

"  Is  he  dead  ?  "  asked  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  No,  faith,  worse  thin  that ;  he's  resigned. 
He  calls  th'  la-ads  about  him,  an'  says  he : 
*  Boys,'  he  says,  '  I'm  tired  iv  politics,'  he 
says.  '  I'm  goin'  to  quit  it  f 'r  me  health,' 
he  says.  ^Do  ye  stay  in,  an'  get  ar-rested 
f'r  th'  good  iv  th'  party.'  Ye  see  thim 
mugwumps  is  afther  th'  Boss,  an'  he's  gettin' 
out  th'  way  Hogan  got  out  iv  Connock. 
Wan  day  he  comes  over  to  me  fa-ather's 
house,  an'  says  he,  *  Dooley,'  he  says,  '  I'm 
goin'  to  lave  this  hole  iv  a  place,'  he  says. 
'  F'r  why  ? '  says  th'  ol'  man  ;  ^  I  thought  ye 
liked  it.'  *  Faith,'  says  Hogan,  '  I  niver 
liked  a  blade  iv  grass  in  it,'  he  says.  *  I'm 
sick  iv  it,'  he  says.  '  I  don't  want  niver  to 
see  it  no  more.'  And  he  wint  away.  Th' 
next  mornin'  th'  polis  was  lookin'  fr  him  to 
lock  him  up  f'r  stealin'  joo'lry  in  the  fair 
town.     Yes,  by  dad. 


FROM  THE  BURNING         67 

"  'Tis  th'  way  iv  th'  boss,  Jawn.  I  seen 
it  manny's  th'  time,  i  There  was  wanst  a 
boss  in  th'  Sixth  Wa-ard,  an'  his  name  was 
Flannagan ;  an'  he  came  fr'm  th'  County 
Clare,  but  so  near  th'  bordher  Hne  that  no 
wan  challenged  his  vote,  an'  he  was  let  walk 
down  Ar-rchey  Road  just  's  though  he  come 
fr'm  Connock.  Well,  sir,  whin  I  see  him 
first,  he'd  th'  smell  iv  Castle  Garden  on  him, 
an'  th'  same  is  no  mignonette,  d'ye  mind ; 
an'  he  was  goin'  out  with  pick  an'  shovel  f 'r 
to  dig  in  th'  canal, —  a  big,  shtrappin',  black- 
haired  lad,  with  a  neck  like  a  bull's  an'  cov- 
ered with  a  hide  as  thick  as  wan's,  fr'm 
thryin'  to  get  a  crop  iv  oats  out  iv  a  Clare 
farm  that  growed  divvle  th'  thing  but  nice, 
big  boldhers. 

"  He  was  de-termincd,  though,  an'  th' 
first  man  that  made  a  face  at  him  he  wal- 
loped in  th'  jaw ;  an'  he'd  been  on  th'  canal 
no  more  thin  a  month  befure  he  licked  ivry 
man  in  th'  gang  but  th'  section  boss,  who'd 
been  a  Dublin  jackeen,  an'  weighed  sixteen 
stone  an'  was  great  with  a  thrip  an'  a  punch, 


68  FROM  THE  BURNING 

Wan  day  they  had  some  wurruds,  whin  me 
bold  Dublin  man  sails  into  Flannagan. 
Well,  sir,  they  fought  fr  'm  wan  o'clock  till 
tin  in  th'  night,  an'  nayther  give  up  ;  though 
Flannagan  had  th'  best  iv  it,  bein'  young. 
'  Why  don't  ye  put  him  out  ? '  says  wan  iv 
th'  la-ads.  '  Whisht,'  says  Flannagan.  *  I'm 
waitin'  f  r  th'  moon  to  come  up,'  he  says, 
*  so's  I  can  hit  him  right,'  he  says,  *  an'  sci- 
entific' Well,  sir,  his  tone  was  that  fierce 
th'  section  boss  he  dhropped  right  there  iv 
sheer  fright ;  an'  Flannagan  was  cock  iv  th' 
walk. 

"  Afther  a  while  he  begun  f'r  to  go  out 
among  th'  other  gangs,  lookin'  f'r  fight;  an', 
whin  th'  year  was  over,  he  was  k  no  wed  fr'm 
wan  end  iv  th'  canal  to  th'  other  as  th'  man 
that  no  wan  cud  stand  befure.  He  got  so 
pop'lar  fr'm  lickin'  all  his  frinds  that  he 
opened  up  a  liquor  store  beyant  th'  bridge, 
an'  wan  night  he  shot  some  la-ads  fr'm  th' 
ya-ards  that  come  over  f'r  to  r-run  him. 
That  made  him  sthronger  still.  When  they 
got    up   a   prize   f'r  th'   most    pop'lar   man 


FROM  THE  BURNING         6^ 

in  th'  parish,  he  loaded  th'  ballot  box  an' 
got  th'  goold-headed  stick,  though  he  was 
r-runnin'  against  th'  aldherman,  an'  th'  little 
soggarth  thried  his  best  to  down  him.  Thin 
he  give  a  cock  fight  in  th'  liquor  shop,  an' 
that  atthracted  a  gang  iv  bad  men  ;  an'  he 
licked  thim  wan  afther  another,  an'  made 
thim  his  frinds.  An'  wan  day  lo  an'  behold, 
whin  th'  aldherman  thried  f'r  to  carry  th* 
prim'ries  that'd  niver  failed  him  befure, 
Flannagan  wint  down  with  his  gang  an' 
illicted  his  own  dilligate  ticket,  an'  thrun  th' 
aldherman  up  in  th'  air  ! 

"  Thin  he  was  a  boss,  an'  f'r  five  years  he 
r-run  th'  ward.  He  niver  wint  to  th'  coun- 
cil, d'ye  mind  ;  but,  whin  he  was  gin'rous,  he 
give  th'  aldhermen  tin  per  cint  iv  what  they 
made.  In  a  convintion,  whin  anny  iv  th' 
candydates  passed  roun'  th'  money,  'twas 
wan  thousand  dollars  f'r  Flannagan  an'  have 
a  nice  see-gar  with  me  f'r  th'  rest  iv  thim. 
Wan  year  fr'm  th'  day  he  done  th'  aldher- 
man he  sold  th'  liquor  shop.  Thin  he  built 
a  brick  house  in  th'  place  iv  th'  little  frame 


70         FROM  THE  BURNING 

wan  he  had  befure,  an'  moved  in  a  pianny 
f 'r  his  daughter.  'Twas  about  this  time  he 
got  a  dimon  as  big  as  ye'er  fist,  an'  begun  to 
dhrive  down  town  behind  a  fast  horse.  No 
wan  knowed  what  he  done,  but  his  wife  said 
he  was  in  th'  r-rale ,  estate  business.  D'ye 
mind,  Jawn,  that  th'  r-rale  estate  business 
includes  near  ivrything  fr'm  vagrancy  to 
manslaughter  ? 

"  Whativer  it  was  he  done,  he  had  money 
to  bur-rn  ;  an'  th'  little  soggarth  that  wanst 
despised  him,  but  had  a  hard  time  payin'  th' 
debt  iv  th'  church,  was  glad  enough  to  sit  at 
his  table.  Wan  day  without  th'  wink  iv  th' 
eye  he  moved  up  in  th'  avnoo,  an'  no  wan 
seen  him  in  Bridgeport  afther  that.  'Twas  a 
month  or  two  later  whin  a  lot  iv  th*  la-ads 
was  thrun  into  jail  f 'r  a  little  diviltry  they'd 
done  f'r  him.  A  comity  iv  th'  fathers  iv 
th'  la-ads  wint  to  see  him.  He  raceived  thim 
in  a  room  as  big  as  wan  iv  their  whole 
houses,  with  pitchers  on  th'  walls  an'  a  car- 
pet as  deep  an'  soft  as  a  bog.  Th'  comity 
asked  him  to  get  th'  la-ads  out  on  bail. 


FROM  THE   BURNING         71 

"  '  Gintlemen,'  he  says,  '  ye  must  excuse 
me,'  he  says,  '  in  such  matthers.'  *  D'ye 
mane  to  say,'  says  Cassidy,  th'  plumber, 
'  that  ye  won't  do  annything  f 'r  my  son  ? ' 
*  Do  annything,'  says  Flannagan.  (I'll  say 
this  f  r  him  :  a  more  darin'  man  niver  drew 
breath ;  an',  whin  hig  time  come  to  go 
sthandin'  off  th'  mob  an'  defindin'  his 
sthone  quarry  in  th'  rites  iv  sivinty-siven,  he 
faced  death  without  a  wink.)  *  Do  ? '  he 
says,  risin'  an'  sthandin'  within  a  fut  iv 
Cassidy's  big  cane.  '  Do  ? '  he  says.  *  Why,' 
he  says,  *  yes,'  he  says;  'I've  subscribed 
wan  thousand  dollars,'  he  says,  *  to  th'  citi- 
zen's comity,'  he  says,  '  f 'r  to  prosecute 
him;  an','  he  says,  *  gintlemen,'  he  says, 
'  there's  th'  dure.' 

"  I  seen  Cassidy  that  night,  an'  he  was  as 
white  as  a  ghost.  'What  ails  ye?'  says  I. 
'  Have  ye  seen  th'  divvle  ? '  '  Yes,'  he  says, 
bendin'  his  head  over  th'  bar,  an'  lookin' 
sivinty  years  instead  iv  forty-five." 


A  WINTER  NIGHT. 

Any  of  the  Archey  Road  cars  that  got 
out  of  the  barns  at  all  were  pulled  by  teams 
of  four  horses,  and  the  snow  hung  over  the 
shoulders  of  the  drivers'  big  bearskin  coats 
like  the  eaves  of  an  old-fashioned  house  on 
the  blizzard  night.  There  was  hardly  a  soul 
in  the  road  from  the  red  bridge,  west,  when 
Mr.  McKenna  got  laboriously  off  the  plat- 
form of  his  car  and  made  for  the  sign 
of  somebody's  celebrated  Milwaukee  beer 
over  Mr.  Dooley's  tavern.  Mr.  Dooley, 
being  a  man  of  sentiment,  arranges  his 
drinks  to  conform  with  the  weather.  Now 
anybody  who  knows  anything  at  all  knows 
that  a  drop  of  "  J.  J."  and  a  whisper  (sub- 
dued) of  hot  water  and  a  lump  of  sugar  and 
lemon  peel  (if  you  care  for  lemon  peel)  and 
nutmeg  (if  you  are  a  "jood")  is  a  drink  cal- 
culated to  tune  a  man's  heart  to  the  song  of 
the  wind  slapping  a  beer-sign  upside  down 
and  the  snow  drifting  in  under  the  door. 
Mr.  Dooley  was  drinking  this  mixture  be- 


A  WINTER  NIGHT  73 

hind  his  big  stove  when  Mr.  McKenna 
came  in. 

"Bad  night,  Jawn,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 

"  It  is  that,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  Blowin'  an'  stormin',  yes,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley.  "  There  hasn'  been  a  can  in  to- 
night but  wan,  an'  that  was  a  pop  bottle. 
Is  the  snow-ploughs  out,  I  dinnaw  ^  " 

"They  are,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  I  suppose  Doherty  is  dhrivin',"  said 
Mr.  Dooley.  "  He's  a  good  dhriver.  They 
do  say  he  do  be  wan  iv  the  best  dhrivers  on 
th'  road.  I've  heerd  that  th'  prisident  is 
dead  gawn  on  him.  He's  me  cousin.  Ye 
can't  tell  much  about  what  a  man  '11  be  fr'm 
what  th'  kid  is.  That  there  Doherty  was 
th'  worst  omadhon  iv  a  boy  that  iver  I 
knowed.  He  niver  cud  larn  his  a-ah-bee, 
abs.  But  see  what  he  made  iv  himsilf! 
Th'  best  dhriver  on  th'  road ;  an',  by  dad, 
'tis  not  twinty  to  wan  he  won't  be  stharter 
befure  he  dies.  'Tis  in  th'  fam'ly  to  make 
their  names.  There  niver  was  anny  fam'ly 
in  th'    ol'  counthry   that    turned   out   more 


74  A  WINTER  NIGHT 

priests  than  th'  Dooleys.  By  gar,  I  believe 
we  hoi'  th'  champeenship  iv  th'  wurruld. 
At  M'nooth  th'  profissor  that  called  th'  roll 
got  so  fr'm  namin'  th'  Dooley  la-ads  that 
he  came  near  bein'  tur-rned  down  on  th' 
cha-arge  that  he  was  whistlin'  at  vespers. 
His  mouth,  d'ye  mind,  took  that  there 
shape  fr'm  sayin'  '  Dooley,'  '  Dooley,'  that 
he'd  looked  as  if  he  was  whistlin'.  D'ye 
mind?  Dear,  oh  dear,  'tis  th'  diwle's  own 
fam'ly  f 'r  religion." 

Mr.  McKenna  was  about  to  make  a  jeer- 
ing remark  to  the  effect  that  the  alleged 
piety  of  the  Dooley  family  had  not  pene- 
trated to  the  Archey  Road  representative, 
when  a  person,  evidently  of  wayfaring  habits, 
entered  and  asked  for  alms.  Mr.  Dooley 
arose,  and,  picking  a  half-dollar  from  the 
till,  handed  it  to  the  visitor  with  great  un- 
concern. The  departure  of  the  wayfarer 
with  profuse  thanks  was  followed  by  a  space 
of  silence. 

"  Well,  Jawn,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 

"  What  did  you  give  the  hobo  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  McKenna. 


A  WINTER  NIGHT  75 

"  Haifa  dollar,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 

"  And  what  for  ?  " 

"  Binivolence,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  with  a 
seraphic  smile. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  McKenna,  "  I  should 
say  that  was  benevolence." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "'tis  a  bad 
night  out,  an'   th'  poor   divvle   looked  that 

mis'rable  it    brought  th'   tears  to    me    eyes, 

>  >> 
an     — 

"But,"  said  Mr.  McKenna,  "that  ain't 
any  reason  why  you  should  give  half  a 
dollar  to  every  tramp  who  comes  in." 

"Jawn,"said  Mr.  Dooley,  "I  know  th' 
ma-an.  He  spinds  all  his  money  at 
Schneider's,  down  th'  block." 

"  What  of  that  ?  "  asked  Mr.  McKenna. 

"Oh,  nawthin',"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  on'v 
I  hope  Herman  won't  thry  to  bite  that 
there  coin.      If  he  does" — 


THE  BLUE  AND  THE  GRAY. 

"A-HO,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  th'  blue 
an'  th'  gray,  th'  blue  an'  th'  gray.  Well, 
sir,  Jawn,  d'ye  know  that  I  see  Mulligan 
marchin'  ahead  with  his  soord  on  his  side, 
an'  his  horse  dancin'  an'  backin'  into  th' 
crowd ;  an'  th'  la-ads  chowlder  arms  an' 
march,  march  away.  Ye  shud  've  been 
there.  Th'  women  come  down  fr'm  th' 
peeraries  with  th'  childher  in  their  arms,  an' 
'twas  like  a  sind-off  to  a  picnic.  '  Good-by, 
Mike.'  '  Timothy,  darlin',  don't  forget  your 
prayers.'  '  Cornalius,  if  ye  do  but  look  out 
f 'r  th'  little  wans,  th'  big  wans  '11  not  harm 
ye.'  '  Teddy,  lad,  always  wear  ye'er  Agnus 
Day.'  An',  whin  th'  time  come  f 'r  th'  thrain 
to  lave,  th'  girls  was  up  to  th'  lines ;  an' 
'twas,  '  Mike,  love,  ye'll  come  back  alive, 
won't  ye  ? '  an'  '  Pat,  there  does  be  a  pair 
iv  yarn  socks  in  th'  hoomp  on  ye'er  back. 
Wear  thim,  lad.  They'll  be  good  f'r  ye'er 
poor,  dear  feet.'     An'  off  they  wint. 

"  Well,   some   come   back,   an'    some   did 


THE  BLUE  AND  GRAY        77 

not  come  back.  An'  some  come  back  with 
no  rale  feet  f'r  to  put  yarn  socks  on  thim. 
Mulligan  quit  down  somewhere  in  Ken- 
tucky ;  an'  th'  las'  wurruds  he  was  heard  to 
utter  was,  '  Lav  me  down,  boys,  an'  save 
th'  flag.'  An  there  was  manny  th'  other 
that  had  nawthin'  to  say  but  to  call  f'r  a 
docthor;  f'r  'tis  on'y,  d'ye  mind,  th'  heroes 
that  has  somethin'  writ  down  on  typewriter 
f'r  to  sind  to  th'  newspapers  whin  they  move 
up.  Th'  other  lads  that  dies  because  they 
cudden't  r-run  away, —  not  because  they  wud- 
den't, —  they  dies  on  their  backs,  an'  calls  f'r 
th'  docthor  or  th'  priest.  It  depinds  where 
they're  shot. 

"  But,  annyhow,  no  wan  iv  thim  lads 
come  back  to  holler  because  he  was  in  th' 
war  or  to  war  again  th'  men  that  shot  him. 
They  wint  to  wurruk,  carry  in'  th'  hod  'r 
shoveUin'  cindhers  at  th'  rollin'  mills.  Some 
iv  thim  took  pinsions  because  they  needed 
thim  ;  but  divvle  th'  wan  iv  thim  ye'll  see 
paradin'  up  an'  down  Ar-rchey  Road  with 
a  blue  coat  on,  wantin'  to  fight  th'  war  over 


78        THE  BLUE  AND  GRAY 

with  Schwartzmeister's  bar-tinder  that  niver 
heerd  iv  but  wan  war,  an'  that  th'  rites 
iv  sivinty-sivin.  Sare  a  wan.  No,  faith. 
They'd  as  lave  decorate  a  confeatherate's 
grave  as  a  thrue  pathrite's.  All  they  want 
is  a  chanst  to  go  out  to  th'  cimitry  ;  an',  faith, 
who  doesn't  enjoy  that  ?  No  wan  that's 
annything  iv  a  spoort. 

"  I  know  hundhreds  iv  thim.  Ye  know 
Pat  Doherty,  th'  little  man  that  lives  over 
be  Grove  Sthreet.  He  inlisted  three  times, 
by  dad,  an'  had  to  stand  on  his  toes  three 
times  to  pass.  He  was  that  ager.  Well, 
he  looks  to  weigh  about  wan  hundherd  an' 
twinty  pounds  ;  an'  he  weighs  wan  fifty  be 
raison  iv  him  havin'  enough  lead  to  stock 
a  plumber  in  his  stomach  an'  his  legs.  He 
showed  himsilf  wanst  whin  he  was  feelin' 
gay.  He  looks  like  a  sponge.  But  he  ain't. 
He  come  in  here  Thursdah  night  to  take 
his  dhrink  in  quite ;  an'  says  I,  '  Did  ye 
march  to-day  ? '  '  Faith,  no,'  he  says,  *  I 
can  get  hot  enough  runnin'  a  wheelbarrow 
without  makin'  a  monkey  iv  mesilf  dancin* 


THE  BLUE  AND  GRAY        79 

around  th'  sthreets  behind  a  band.'  *  But 
didn't  ye  go  out  to  decorate  th'  graves  ? ' 
says  I.  *I  hadn't  th'  price,'  says  he,  '  Th' 
women  wint  out  with  a  gyranium  to  put 
over  Sarsfield,  the  first  born,'  he  says. 

"Just  thin  Morgan  O'Toole  come  in,  an' 
laned  over  th'  ba-ar.  He's  been  a  dillygate 
to  ivry  town  convention  iv  th'  RaypubHcans 
since  I  dinnaw  whin.  '  Well,'  says  he,  *  I 
see  they're  pilin'  it  on,'  he  says.  '  On  th' 
dead  ? '  says  I,  be  way  iv  a  joke.  '  No,'  he 
says;  'but  did  ye  see  they're  puttin'  up 
a  monnymint  over  th'  rebils  out  here  be 
Oakwoods  ? '  he  says.  '  By  gar,'  he  says, 
'  'tis  a  disgrace  to  th'  mim'ries  iv  thim  de- 
voted dead  who  died  f'r  their  counthry,'  he 
says.  '  If,'  he  says,  '  I  cud  get  ninety-nine 
men  to  go  out  an'  blow  it  up,  I'd  be  th' 
hundherth,'  he  says.  'Yes,'  says  I,  'ye 
wud,'  I  says.     '  Ye'd  be  th'  last,'  I  says. 

'*  Doherty  was  movin'  up  to  him.  '  What 
rig'ment  ? '  says  he.  '  What's  that  ?  '  says 
O'Toole.  '  Did  ye  inlist  in  th'  army,  brave 
man  ? '  says  Pat.     '  I  swore  him  over  age,*  says 


8o        THE  BLUE  AND  GRAY 

I,  *  Was  ye  dhrafted  in  ? '  says  th'  little  man. 
*  No,'  says  O'Toole.  *  Him  an'  me  was  in 
th*  same  cellar,'  says  I.  *  Did  ye  iver  hear 
iv  Ree-saca,  'r  Vicksburg,  'r  Lookout  Moun- 
tain ? '  th'  little  man  wint  on.  '  Did  anny 
man  iver  shoot  at  ye  with  annything  but  a 
siltzer  bottle  ?  Did  ye  iver  have  to  lay  on 
ye'er  stummick  with  ye'er  nose  burrid  in  th' 
Lord  knows  what  while  things  was  whistlin' 
over  ye  that,  if  they  iver  stopped  whistHn',  'd 
make  ye'er  backbone  look  like  a  broom  ? 
Did  ye  iver  see  a  man  that  ye'd  slept  with 
th'  night  befure  cough,  an'  go  out  with  his 
hands  ahead  iv  his  face?  Did  ye  iver  have 
to  wipe  ye'er  most  intimate  frinds  off  ye'er 
clothes,  whin  ye  wint  home  at  night  ?  Where 
was  he  durin'  th'  war?'  he  says.  *  He  was 
dhrivin'  a  grocery  wagon  f 'r  Philip  Reidy,' 
says  L  *  An'  what's  he  makin'  th'  roar 
about  ? '  says  th'  little  man.  *  He  don't  want 
anny  wan  to  get  onto  him,'  says  L 

"  O'Toole  was  gone  be  this  time,  an'  th' 
little  man  laned  over  th'  bar.  '  Now,'  says 
he,  '  what  d'ye  think  iv  a  gazabo  that  don't 


THE  BLUE  AND  GRAY        8i 

want  a  monniment  put  over  some  wan  ? 
Where  is  this  here  pole?  I  think  I'll  go 
out  an'  take  a  look  at  it.  Where'd  ye  say 
th'  la-ad  come  fr'm  ?  Donaldson  ?  I  was 
there.  There  was  a  man  in  our  mess  —  a 
Wicklow  man  be  th'  name  iv  Dwyer  —  that 
had  th'  best  come-all-ye  I  iver  heerd.  It 
wint  like  this,*  an'  he  give  it  to  me," 


THE   TRAGEDY    OF   THE 
AGITATOR. 

"  Whin  ye  come  up,  did  ye  see  Dorgan  ?  " 
asked  Mr.  Dooley. 

"  Which  Dorgan  ?  "  asked  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  Why,  to  be  sure,  Hugh  O'Neill  Dor- 
gan, him  that  was  sicrety  iv  Deerin'  Shtreet 
branch  number  wan  hundred  an'  eight  iv  th' 
Ancient  Ordher  iv  Scow  Unloaders,  him 
that  has  th'  red  lambrequin  on  his  throat, 
that  married  th'  second  time  to  Dinnihy's 
aunt  an'  we  give  a  shivaree  to  him.  Hivins 
on  earth,  don't  ye  know  him  ?  " 

"  I  don't,"  said  Mr.  McKenna  ;  "  and,  if  I 
know  him,  I  haven't  seen  him." 

"  Thin  ye  missed  a  sight,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley.  "  He's  ragin'  an'  tearin'.  He 
have  been  a  great  union  man.  He'd  sthrike 
on  th'  moment's  provocation.  I  seen  him 
wanst,  whin  some  scow  unloaders  sthruck  in 
Lemont  or  some  other  distant  place,  put  on 
his  coat,  lay  down  his  shovel,  an'  go  out,  be 
hivins,  alone.     Well,  his  son  goes  an'  jines 


THE  AGITATOR  83 

th'  Sivinth  Rig'mint ;  an',  by  gar,  th'  ol'  man, 
not  knovvin'  about  th'  army,  he's  that  proud 
that  he  sthruts  up  an'  down  th'  sthreet  with 
his  thumb  in  th'  vest  iv  him  an'  give  his  son 
a  new  shovel,  for  they  was  wurrukin'  to- 
gether on  th'  scow  *  Odelia  Ann.'  Well, 
whin  th'  sthrike  come  along,  iv  coorse  th' 
scow  unloaders  quits ;  an'  Dorgan  an'  th' 
la-ad  goes  out  together,  because  they're 
dhrawin'  good  wages  an'  th'  crick  do  be  full 
iv  men  r-ready  f 'r  to  take  their  places. 

"  Well,  Dorgan  had  th'  divvle's  own  time 
paradin'  up  an'  down  an'  sindin'  out  ordhers 
to  sthrike  to  ivry  man  he  knowed  of  till  th' 
la-ad  comes  over  las'  Choosdah  avenin', 
dhressed  in  his  rigimintals  with  a  gun  as 
long  as  a  clothes-pole  over  his  shoulder. 
*  Hughey,'  said  th'  father,  '  you  look  very 
gran'  to-night,'  he  savs.  '  Whose  fun'ral 
ar-re  ye  goin'  to  at  this  hour  ? '  *  None  but 
thim  I  makes  mesilf,'  says  he.  *  What  d'ye 
mean?'  says  th'  ol'  man.  'I'm  goin'  over 
f'r  to  stand  guard  in  th'  thracks,'  says  th' 
la-ad.     Well,  with  that  th'  ol'  man  leaps  up. 


84  THE  AGITATOR 

*  Polisman,'    he  says.     *  Polisman,'   he  says. 

*  Copper,'  he  says.  'Twas  on'y  be  Mrs. 
Dorgan  comin'  in  an'  quitein'  th'  ol'  man 
with  a  chair  that  hostiHties  was  averted— as 
th'  pa-apers  says  —  right  there  an'  thin. 

"  Well,  sir,  will  ye  believe  me,  whin  Dor- 
gan wint  over  with  th'  mimbers  iv'  th'  union 
that  night  f'r  to  bur-rn  something,  there 
was  me  brave  Hughey  thrampin'  up  an' 
down  like  a  polisman  on  bate.  Dorgan  goes 
up  an'  shakes  his  fist  at  him,  an'  th'  la-ad 
gives  him  a  jab  with  his  bayonet  that  makes 
th'  poor  ol'  man  roar  like  a  bull.  'In  th' 
name  iv  th'  people  iv  th'  State  iv  Illinys,' 
he  says,  'disperse,'  he  says,  'ye  riter,'  he 
says  ;  '  an',  if  ye  don't  go  home,'  he  says,  '  ye 
ol'  omadhon,'  he  says,  '  I'll  have  ye  thrun 
into  jail,'  he  says. 

"  Dorgan  haven't  got  over  it  yet.  It 
dhruv  him  to  a  sick-bed." 


BOYNE  WATER  AND  BAD  BLOOD. 

"Jawn,"  said  Mr.  Dooley  to  Mr. 
McKenna,  "what  did  th'  Orangeys  do 
to-day  ?  " 

"  They  had  a  procession,"  said  Mr. 
McKenna. 

"  Was  it  much,  1  dinnaw  ?  " 

"  Not  much." 

"  That's  good,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "  That's 
good.  They  don't  seem  to  be  gettin'  anny 
sthronger,  praise  be  !  Divvle  th'  sthraw  do 
I  care  f  r  thim.  They  niver  harmed  hair 
nor  head  iv  me ;  an'  they  ain't  Hkely  to, 
ayether,  so  long  as  th'  R-road  keeps  th'  way 
it  is.  Faith,  't\\aid  be  a  fine  pot  iv  porridge 
th'  Hke  iv  thim  'd  ate  if  they  come  up  into 
Ar-rchey  Road.  I'm  an  ol'  man,  Jawn, — 
though  not  so  ol'  at  that, —  but  I'd  give  tin 
years  iv  me  life  to  see  an  Orange  procession 
west  on  Ar-rchey  Road  with  th'  right  flank 
restin'  on  Halsthed  Sthreet.  It'd  rest  there. 
Th'  Lord  knows  it  wud. 

"  Jawn,  I  have  no  dislike  to  th'  Orangeys. 


86  BOYNE  WATER 

Nawthin'  again  thim.  I'd  not  raise  me 
hand  to  thim,  I  wud  not,  though  me  cousin 
Tim  was  kilt  be  wan  iv  thim  dhroppin'  a 
bolt  on  his  skull  in  th'  ship-yards  in  Belfast. 
'Twas  lucky  f'r  that  there  Orangey  he  spoke 
first.  Me  cousin  Tim  had  a  ship-ax  in  his 
hand  that  'd  Ve  evened  things  up  f'r  at  laste 
wan  iv  th'  poor  pikemen  that  Sarsfield  had 
along  with  him.  But  I've  nawthin'  again 
thim  at  that  but  th'  wan  that  kilt  Tim.  I'd 
like  to  meet  that  lad  in  some  quite  place  like 
th'  Clan-na-Gael  picnic  on  th'  fifteenth  iv 
August,  some  place  where  we'd  have  fair 
play. 

"  Jawn,  live  an'  let  live  is  me  motto. 
On'y  I  say  this  here,  that  'tis  a  black  dis- 
grace to  Chicago  Pr  to  let  th'  likes  iv  thim 
thrapze  about  th'  sthreets  with  their  cheap 
ol'  flags  an'  ribbons.  Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  if 
Pathrick's  Day  on'y  come  some  year  on'  th' 
twelfth  day  iv  July !  Where'd  they  be, 
where'd  they  be? 

"  D'ye  know  things  is  goin'  to  th'  dogs  in 
this  town,  Jawn,  avick?     Sure  they  are,  faith. 


BOYNE  WATER  87 

I  mind  th'  time  well  whin  an  Orangey'd  as 
lave  go  through  hell  in  a  celluloid  suit  as 
march  in  this  here  town  on  the  twelfth  iv 
July.  I  raymimber  wanst  they  was  a  man 
be  th'  name  iv  Morgan  Dempsey, —  a  first 
cousin  iv  thim  Dempseys  that  lives  in 
Cologne  Sthreet, —  an'  he  was  a  Roscommon 
man,  too,  an'  wan  iv  th'  cutest  diwles  that 
iver.  breathed  th'  breath  iv  life. 

"  Well,  whin  th'  day  come  f 'r  th'  Orangeys 
to  cillybrate  th'  time  whin  King  Willum  — 
may  th'  divvle  hould  him  !  —  got  a  stand-off, 
—  an'  'twas  no  betther,  Jawn,  f'r  th'  Irish  'd 
've  skinned  him  alive  if  th'  poor  ol'  gaby  iv 
an  English  king  hadn't  ducked —  What's 
that  ?  Don't  I  know  it  ?  I  have  a  book  at 
home  written  be  an  impartial  historyan, 
Pathrick  Clancy  Duffy,  to  prove  it.  What 
was  I  sayin'  ?  Whin'  th'  twelfth  day  iv  July 
come  around  an'  th'  Orangeys  got  ready  to 
cillybrate  th'  day  King  Willum,  with  all  his 
Gatlin'  guns  an'  cannon,  just  barely  sthud 
off  Sarsfield  an'  his  men  that  had  on'y  pikes 
an'    brickbats    an'    billyard    cues,    th'    good 


88  BOYNE  WATER 

people  was  infuryated.  I  dinnaw  who  was 
th'  mayor  in  thim  days.  He  was  niver 
ilicted  again.  But,  annyhow,  he  give  it  out 
that  th'  Orangeys'  procission  must  not  be 
hurted.  An'  all  th'  newspapers  asked  th' 
good  people  to  be  quite,  an'  it  was  announced 
at  high  mass  an'  low  mass  that  annywan  that 
sthruck  a  blow  'd  be  excommunicated. 

"  Well,  ye  know  how  it  is  whin  modhera- 
tion  is  counselled,  Jawn.  Modheration  is 
another  name  f'r  murdheration.  So  they 
put  two  platoons  iv  polismin  in  front  iv  th' 
Orangeys  an'  three  behind,  an'  a  double 
column  alongside  ;  an'  away  they  wint. 

"  No  wan  intherfered  with  thim  ;  an'  that 
didn't  plaze  Morgan  Dempsey,  who'd  served 
his  time  a  calker  in  a  ship-yard.  Bein'  iv  a 
injaneyous  disposition,  he  made  up  his  mind 
f'r  to  do  something  to  show  that  pathrietism 
wasn't  dead  in  this  counthry.  So  he  got  up 
in  a  hallway  in  Washington  Sthreet,  an' 
waited.  Th'  procission  come  with  th'  polis- 
men  in  front  an'  behind  an'  along  th'  sides, 
an'  th'   German   Band,  thryin'   to  keep  wan 


BOYNE  WATER  89 

eye  on  the  house-tops  on  both  sides  iv  th' 
sthreet,  an'  to  read  th'  music  iv  '  LilHbul- 
iero '  an'  '  Croppies  lie  down  '  an'  '  Boyne 
Wather'  with  th'  other.  Th'  Orangeys 
didn't  look  up.  They  kept  their  eyes 
pointed  sthraight  ahead,  I'll  say  that  f'r 
thim.  They're  murdherin'  vilyans ;  but 
they're   Irish,  iv  a  sort. 

"  Whin  they  come  by  Dempsey,  he  pokes 
his  head  out  iv  th'  dure  ;  an'  says  he,  '  Th' 
'ell  with  all  th'  Prowtestant  bishops.'  Now 
that  same  over  in  Derry'd  have  had  all  th' 
tilin's  in  town  flyin'  ;  but  th'  Orangeys  'd 
been  warned  not  to  fight,  an'  they  wint 
sthraight  on,  on'y  they  sung  '  Lillibullero.' 
Did  ye  niver  hear  it?  It  goes  {singing) 
'  Ho !  Brother  Teigue,  dost  hear  in  th' 
degree  ? ' 

"  Th'  Lord  f 'rgive  me  f'r  singin'  it,  Jawn. 
See  if  there's  anny  wan  near  th'  dure. 

"  Well,  whin  they  got  through,  Dempsey 
puts  his  hands  to  his  mouth,  an'  yells,  *  Th' 
'ell  with  King  Willum.'  That  was  more 
thin  th'   Orangeys  cud  stand.     They  halted 


90  BOYNE  WATER 

as  wan  man,  an'  roared  out,  '  Th'  'ell  with 
th'  pope.'  *  What's  that  ? '  says  th'  captain 
iv  th'  polis  foorce.  He  was  a  man  be  th' 
name  of  Murphy,  an'  he  was  blue  with  rage 
f  r  havin'  to  lead  th'  Orangeys.  *  Ma-arch 
on,  Brass  Money,'  says  th'  Orange  marshal. 
Murphy  pulled  him  fr'm  his  horse;  an'  they 
wint  at  it,  club  an'  club.  Be  that  time  th' 
whole  iv  th'  line  was  ingaged.  Ivry  copper 
belted  an  Orangey ;  an'  a  sergeant  named 
Donahue  wint  through  a  whole  lodge,  armed 
on'y,  Jawn,  with  a  clarinet  an'  wan  cymbal. 
He  did  so.  An'  Morgan  Dempsey,  th'  cute 
divvle,  he  sthood  by,  an'  encouraged  both 
sides.  F  'r,  next  to  an  Orangey,  he  likes  to 
see  a  polisman  kilt.  That  ended  wan  Or- 
angey parade. 

"  Not  that  I  think  it  was  right.  I  sup- 
pose they  ought  to  be  left  walk  about,  an' 
I'm  a  fair  man.  If  th'  blackest  iv  thim  wint 
by  now,  Td  not  raise  me  hand  "  — 

"  Hello,"  says  Mr.  McKenna,  "  here  goes 
Killen,  the  Armagh  man.  They  say  he  digs 
with  his  left  foot." 


BOYNE  WATER  91 

"Jawn,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  eagerly,  "if 
ye  run  up  on  th'  roof,  ye'll  find  th'  bricks 
loose  in  th'  top  row  iv  th'  chimbley.  Ye 
might  hand  him  a  few." 


THE    FREEDOM    PICNIC. 

"  There's  wan  thing  about  th'  Irish  iv 
this  town,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 

"The  police?  "  said  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  No,"  said  the  philosopher.  "  But  they 
give  picnics  that  does  bate  all.  Be  hivins, 
if  Ireland  cud  be  freed  be  a  picnic,  it  'd  not 
on'y  be  free  to-day,  but  an  impire,  begorra, 
with  Tim  Haley,  th'  Ranthry  man,  evictin' 
Lord  Salisb'ry  fr'm  his  houldin'.  'Twud 
that. 

"Jawn,  th'  la-ads  have  got  th'  thrick  iv 
freein'  Ireland  down  to  a  sinsible  basis.  In 
th'  ol'  days  they  wint  over  with  dinnymite 
bumbs  in  their  pockets,  an'  ayether  got  their 
rowlers  on  thim  in  Cork  an'  blew  thimsilves 
up  or  was  arristed  in  Queenstown  f 'r  disor- 
dherly  conduct.  'Twas  a  divvle  iv  a  risky 
job  to  be  a  pathrite  in  thim  days,  an'  none 
but  those  that  had  no  wan  dipindint  on  thim 
cud  afFoord  it.  But  what  was  th'  use  ?  Ire- 
land wint  on  bein'  th'  same  opprissed  green 
oil  it  had  always  been,  an'  th'  on'y  difference 


THE  FREEDOM  PICNIC       93 

th'  rivolutions  made  was  ye  sa-aw  new  faces 
on  th'  bridges  an'  th'  \Volfe  Tones  passed 
another  set  iv  resolutions. 

"  'Tis  different  now.  Whin  we  wants 
to  smash  th'  Sassenach  an'  restore  th'  land 
iv  th'  birth  iv  some  iv  us  to  her  thrue  place 
among  th'  nations,  we  gives  a  picnic.  'Tis 
a  dam  sight  asier  thin  goin'  over  with  a  slug 
iv  joynt  powder  an'  blowin'  up  a  polls  sta- 
tion with  no  wan  in  it.  It  costs  less;  an', 
whin  'tis  done,  a  man  can  lep  aboord  a  sthreet 
ca-ar,  an'  come  to  his  family  an'  sleep  it  off. 

"  I  wint  out  last  Choosdah,  an'  I  suppose 
I  must  've  freed  as  much  as  eight  counties  in 
Ireland,  All  th'  la-ads  was  there.  Th' 
first  ma-an  I  see  was  Dorgan,  the  sanyor 
guarjeen  in  the  Wolfe  Tone  Lithry  Society. 
He's  th'  la-ad  that  have  made  th'  Prince  iv 
Wales  thrimble  in  his  moccasins.  I  heerd 
him  wanst  makin'  a  speech  that  near  injooced 
me  to  take  a  bumb  in  me  hand  an'  blow  up 
Westminsther  Cathedral.  '  A-re  ye,'  he 
says,  *^  men,  or  a-re  ye  slaves  ? '  he  says. 
'  Will  ye,'   he  says,  '  set  Idly  by,'    he  says, 


94       THE  FREEDOM  PICNIC 

'  while  th'  Sassenach,'  he  says,  '  has  th' 
counthry  iv  Immitt  an'  O'Connell,'  he  says, 
*  an'  Jawn  Im  Smyth,'  he  says,  '  undher  his 
heel?'  he  says.  *  Arouse,'  he  says,  *  slaves 
an'  despots  ! '  he  says.  '  Clear  th'  way ! '  he 
says.  *  Cowards  an'  thraitors ! '  he  says. 
'  Faugh-a-ballagh! '  he  says.  He  had  th' 
beer  privilege  at  th'  picnic,  Jawn. 

"Hinnissy,  th'  plumber,  who  blew  wan  iv 
his  fingers  off  with  a  bumb  intinded  f'r  some 
iv  th'  archytecture  iv  Liverpool,  had  th' 
conthract  f'r  runnin'  th'  knock-th'-babby- 
down-an'-get-a-nice-seegar  jint.  F'r  th'  good 
iv  th'  cause  I  knocked  th'  babby  down,  Jawn, 
an'  I  on'y  wish  th'  Queen  iv  England  'r  th' 
Prince  iv  Wales  cud  be  injooced  to  smoke 
wan  iv  th'  seegars.  Ye  might  as  well  go 
again  a  Roman  candle.  Th'  wan  I  got  was 
made  iv  baled  hay,  an'  'twas  rumored  about 
th'  pa-ark  that  Hinnissy  was  wurrukin'  off 
his  surplus  stock  iv  bumbs  on  th'  pathrites. 
His  cousin  Darcey  had  th'  shootin'  gallery 
privilege,  an'  he  done  a  business  th'  like  iv 
which  was  niver  knowed  be  puttin'  up  th' 


THE  FREEDOM  PICNIC       95 

figure  iv  an  Irish  polisman  f'r  th'  la-ads  to 
shoot  at.  'Twas  bad  in  th'  end  though,  f'r 
a  gang  iv  Tipp'rary  lads  come  along  behind 
th'  tent  an'  begun  thrown  stones  at  th' 
copper.  Wan  stone  hit  a  Limerick  man, 
an'  th'  cry  '  butthermilk  '  wint  around  ;  an' 
be  hivins,  if  it  hadn't  been  that  th'  chief  iv 
polis,  th'  wise  la-ad,  sint  none  but  German 
polismen  to  th'  picnic,  there'd  not  been  a 
man  left  to  tell  th'  tale." 

"  What's  that  all  got  to  do  with  freeing 
Ireland?"  asked  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  Well,  'tis  no  worse  off  thin  it  was  befure, 
annyhow,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 


THE    IDLE    APPRENTICE. 

"They  hanged  a  man  to-day,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley. 

"They  did  so,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  Did  he  die  game  ?  " 

"  They  say  he  did." 

"Well,  he  did,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "I 
read  it  all  in  th'  pa-apers.  He  died  as  game 
as  if  he  was  wan  iv  th'  Christyan  martyrs  in- 
stead iv  a  thief  that'd  hit  his  man  wan  crack 
too  much.  Saint  or  murdherer,  'tis  little 
difference  whin  death  comes  up  face  front. 

"  I  read  th'  story  iv  this  man  through, 
Jawn  ;  an',  barrin'  th'  hangin',  'tis  th'  story  iv 
tin  thousan'  like  him.  D'ye  raymimber  th' 
Carey  kid  ^  Ye  do.  Well,  I  knowed  his 
grandfather  ;  an'  a  dacinter  ol'  man  niver  wint 
to  his  jooty  wanst  a  month.  Whin  he  come 
over  to  live  down  be  th'  slip,  'twas  as  good 
a  place  as  iver  ye  see.  Th'  honest  men  an' 
honest  women  wint  as  they  pleased,  an'  laid 
hands  on  no  wan.  His  boy  Jim  was  as 
straight  as  th'  r-roads  in  Kildare,  but  he  took 


THE  IDLE  APPRENTICE      97 

to  dhrink ;  an',  whin  Jack  Carey  was  born, 
he  was  a  thramp  on  th'  sthreets  an'  th'  good 
woman  was  wurrukin'  down-town,  scrubbin' 
away  at  th'  flures  in  th'  city  hall,  where 
Dennehy  got  her. 

"  Be  that  time  around  th'  slip  was  rough- 
an'-tumble.  It  was  dhrink  an'  fight  ivry 
night  an'  all  day  Sundah.  Th'  little  la-ads 
come  together  under  sidewalks,  an'  rushed 
th'  can  over  to  Burke's  on  th'  corner  an' 
listened  to  what  th'  big  lads  tol'  thim.  Th' 
first  instruction  that  Jack  Carey  had  was 
how  to  take  a  man's  pocket  handkerchief 
without  his  feelin'  it,  an'  th'  nex'  he  had  was 
larnin'  how  to  get  over  th'  fence  iv  th' 
Reform  School  at  Halsted  Sthreet  in  his 
stockin'  feet. 

"  He  was  a  thief  at  tin  year,  an'  th'  polls  'd 
run  f 'r  him  if  he'd  showed  his  head.  At 
twelve  they  sint  him  to  th'  bridewell  f'r 
breakin'  into  a  freight  car.  He  come  out, 
up  to  anny  game.  I  see  him  whin  he  was 
a  lad  hardly  to  me  waist  stand  on  th'  roof 
iv  Finucane's  Hall  an'  throw  bricks  at  th' 
polisman. 


98      THE  IDLE  APPRENTICE 

"  He  hated  th'  polis,  an'  good  reason  he 
had  f  r  it.  They  pulled  him  out  iv  bed  be 
night  to  search  him.  If  he  turned  a  corner, 
they  ran  him  f'r  blocks  down  th*  sthreet. 
Whin  he  got  older,  they  begun  shootin'  at 
him ;  an'  it  wasn't  manny  years  befiire  he 
begun  to  shoot  back.  He  was  right  enough 
whin  he  was  in  here.  I  cud  conthrol  him. 
But  manny  th'  night  whin  he  had  his  full  iv 
liquor  I've  see  him  go  out  with  his  gun  in 
his  outside  pocket;  an'  thin  I'd  hear  shot 
after  shot  down  th'  sthreet,  an'  I'd  know 
him  an'  his  ol'  inimy  Clancy  'd  met  an'  was 
exchangin'  compliments.  He  put  wan  man 
on  th'  polis  pension  fund  with  a  bullet 
through   his  thigh. 

"  They  got  him  afther  a  while.  He'd  kept 
undher  cover  f'r  months,  livin'  in  freight 
cars  an'  hidin'  undher  viadocks  with  th'  pis- 
tol in  his  hand.  Wan  night  he  come  out, 
an'  broke  into  Schwartzmeister's  place.  He 
sneaked  through  th'  alley  with  th'  German 
man's  damper  in  his  arms,  an'  Clancy  leaped 
on  him  fr'm  th'  fence.     Th'  kid  was   tough, 


THE  IDLE  APPRENTICE       99 

but  Clancy  played  fut-ball  with  th'  Fin- 
erty's  on  Sundah,  an'  was  tougher ;  an',  whin 
th'  men  on  th'  other  beats  come  up,  Carey 
was  hammered  so  they  had  to  carry  him  to 
th'  station  an'  nurse  him  f 'r  trile. 

"  He  wint  over  th'  road,  an  come  back 
gray  an'  stooped,  I  was  afraid  iv  th'  boy 
with  his  black  eyes ;  an'  wan  night  he  see  me 
watchin'  him,  an'  he  says  :  '  Ye  needn't  be 
afraid,'  he  says.  '  I  won't  hurt  ye.  Ye're 
not  Clancy,'  he  says. 

"  I  tol'  Clancy  about  it,  but  he  was  a 
brave  man  ;  an'  says  he :  '  'Tis  wan  an'  wan, 
an'  a  thief  again  an'  honest  man.  If  he  gets 
me,  he  must  get  me  quick.'  Th'  nex'  night 
about  dusk  he  come  saunterin'  up  th'  sthreet, 
swingin'  his  club  an'  jokin  with  his  frind, 
whin  some  wan  shouted, '  Look  out,  Clancy.' 
He  was  not  quick  enough.  He  died  face 
forward,  v/ith  his  hands  on  his  belt;  an'  be- 
fure  all  th'  Vvurruld  Jack  Carey  come  across 
th'  sthreet,  an'  put  another  ball  in  his  head. 

"  They  got  him  within  twinty  yards  iv  me 
store.      He  was   down   in   th'  shadow  iv   th' 


loo     THE  IDLE  APPRENTICE 

house,  an'  they  was  shootin'  at  him  fr'ni 
roofs  an'  behind  barns.  Whin  he  see  it  was 
all  up,  he  come  out  with  his  eyes  closed, 
firin'  straight  ahead ;  an'  they  filled  him  so 
full  iv  lead  he  broke  th'  hub  iv  th'  pathrol 
wagon  takin'  him  to  th'  morgue." 

"  It  served  him  right,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  Who  .?  "  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "  Carey  or 
Clancy  ?  " 


THE   O'BRIENS    FOREVER. 

"  I  THINK,  by  dad,"  said  Mr.  Dooley, 
"  that  Hinnissy's  crazy." 

"  1  always  thought  so,"  said  Mr.  Mc- 
Kenna,  amiably.  "  But  what's  he  been  doin' 
of  late?" 

"  Well,  I  took  him  down  to  see  th'  good 
la-ads  havin'  fun  with  th'  opprissors  iv  th' 
people  at  th'  Colliseem,'  said  Mr.  Dooley. 
"  I  had  no  ticket,  an'  he  had  none.  Th'  frinds 
iv  honest  money  had  give  thim  all  to  Jawn 
P.  Hopkins's  la  ads.  They're  frinds  iv 
honest  money,  whin  they'se  no  other  in  sight. 
But  I'd  like  to  see  anny  goold-bug  or  op- 
prissor  iv  th'  people  keep  th'  likes  iv  me  an' 
Hinnissy  out  iv^  a  convintion.  We  braced 
up  to  wan  iv  th'  dures,  an'  a  man  stopped 
Hinnissv.  'Who  ar-re  ye?'  he  says.  'I 
am  a  Dimmycrat,'  says  Hinnissy.  '  Is  ye'er 
name  Hill  ? '  says  th'  la-ad.  '  It  is  not,'  says 
Hinnissy.  '  I  tol'  ye  I'm  a  Dimmycrat;  an',' 
he  says,  '  I'll  have  no  man  call  me  out  iv 
me  name.'      Hinnissy  was  f'r  rollin'  him  on 


I02    THE  O'BRIENS  FOREVER 

th'  flure  there  an'  thin  f'r  an  insult,  but  I 
flagged  a  polisman.  '  Is  ye'er  name  Sul- 
livan ? '  says  I.  *  It  is,'  says  he.  '  Roscom- 
mon ? '  says  I,  fr'm  th'  way  he  spoke.  '  Sure 
ye're  right,'  he  says.  '  Me  name's  Dooley,' 
I  says.  '  Here,'  say  he  to  th'  dure-keeper, 
*  don't  stand  in  th'  way  iv  th'  sinitor  iv  th' 
State  iv  Mitchigan,'  he  says.  '  Lave  him 
an'  his  frind  go  in,'  he  says.  I  minded  afther 
I  was  good  to  him  whin  Simon  O'Donnell 
was  chief  iv  polis,  may  he  rest  in  peace  ! 

"  Hinnissy  an'  me  got  a  seat  be  some 
dhroll  ol'  boys  fr'm  out  in  laway.  Afther 
a  man  be  th'  name  iv  Martin,  a  sergeant-iv- 
arms,  had  addhressed  th'  meetin'  twinty  or 
thirty  times, —  I  kep  no  count  iv  him, —  th' 
chairman  inthrojooced  th'  dillygates  to  nom- 
mynate  th'  big  men.  It  wint  all  right  with 
Hinnissy  for  a  little  while  till  a  man  got  up 
an'  shook  his  fist  at  th'  chairman.  '  What's 
that?  what's  that?'  says  Hinnissy.  'What's 
that  ? '  he  says.  '  Hurroo,  hurroo,'  he  says, 
lammin'  th'  man  fr'm  laway  with  his  goold- 
headed  cane.     '  What  ails   ye,   man   ahve  ? ' 


THE  O'BRIENS  FOREVER    103 

says  I.  '  Whv,'  he  savs,  'they've  nommy- 
nated  Billy,'  he  says.  '  Billy  who? '  says  I. 
'Why,  Willum  J.  O'Brien,'   he  says. 

" '  A  sthrong  man,'  says  he,  addhressin' 
fh'  man  fr'm  lawav.  '  I  shud  say  he  was,' 
says  th'  man.  '  Th'  sthrongest  man  that 
iver  come  down  th'  road,'  says  Hinnissy. 
*  Why,'  he  says,  '  I  see  that  man  put  up 
an'  eight  iv  beer  with  wan  hand,'  he  says, 
'holdin'  it  be  th'  rim,'  he  says.  *  None 
sthronger,'  he  says.  '  But  will  he  carry 
Illinye?'  says  th'  lad  fr'm  laway.  'Will 
he  carry  Illinye?'  says  Hinnissy.  'Why, 
man  alive,'  he  says,  '  I've  see  him  carry 
a  prim'ry  in  th'  sixth  precint,'  he  says.  '  Is 
that  enough  f'r  ye? '  he  says.  '  He's  a  good 
speaker,'  says  th'  laway  man.  '  He  is  that,' 
says  Hinnissy;  'an'  he  was  wan  iv  th'  best 
waltzers  that  flung  a  foot  at  th'  County 
Dimocracy  picnic,'  he  says.  '  But  will  he 
make  a  good  fight?'  says  th'  man.  'Will 
he? '  says  Hinnissy.  '  Will  he  make  a  good 
fight?'  he  says.  .'Dooley,'  he  says,  'this 
here    Dimmycrat   wants   to   know  if  Bill   '11 


I04    THE  O'BRIENS  FOREVER 

make  a  good  fight.  Why,'  he  says,  '  if  he 
iver  gets  to  Washington  an'  wan  iv  th' 
opprissors  iv  th'  people  goes  again  him,  give 
him  Jackson  Park  or  a  clothes  closet,  gun  or 
soord,  ice-pick  or  billyard  cue,  chair  or  stove 
leg,  an'  Bill  '11  make  him  climb  a  tree,'  he 
says.  '  I'd  like  to  see  wan  iv  thim  supreme 
justices  again  Bill  O'Brien  on  an  income  tax 
or  annv  other  ord-nance,'  he  says.  *  He'd 
go  in  an'  lame  thim  with  th'  Revised  Statutes.' 
*  I  presume/  says  th'  lad,  *  that  ve'er  fr'm 
Omaha.'  '  I'll  tear  ye'er  hair  out,'  says 
Hinnissy.' 

"  '  Ye  idjit,'  says  I,  whin  I  had  him  in  th' 
sthreet,  'it  wasn't  Bill  O'Brien  was  nommy- 
nated,'  says  I.  'What  ar-re  ye  talkin' 
about  ? '  says  he.  '  I  seen  him  on  th'  flure,' 
he  says.  *  He  had  th'  sinitor  iv  Missoury 
be  th'  throat  whin  ye  took  me  away,'  he 
says. 

"  I  left  him  there  ;  but  he  come  into  th' 
place  at  six  o'clock,  an'  borrid  a  paper  an' 
pencil.  Thin  he  wint  back,  an'  sat  down  an' 
wrote.      '  What  ar-re    ye  doin'   there  ? '   says 


THE  O'BRIENS  FOREVER    105 

I.  '  I've  wrote  a  sketch  iv  th'  nominee  Pr 
th'  Stock-yards  Sun,'  he  says.  '  Listen  to 
it,  Willum  J.  O'Brien,'  he  says,  'was  born 
in  th'  County  iv  Mayo  forty  years  ago,'  he 
says.  '  He  received  a  limited  education,  his 
parents  even  thin  designin'  him  f'r  th' 
Prisidency.  Bein'  unable  to  complete  a 
coorse  at  th'  rayform  school,  he  wint  to 
wurruk ;  but  soon,  tired  iv  this,  he  started 
a  saloon.  Fr'm  thince  he  dhrifted  into 
politics,  an'  become  noted  as  th'  boy  welter- 
weight iv  th'  South  Branch.  He  was  ilicted 
aldherman  at  a  time  whin  comparatively 
nawthin'  was  doin'  in  th'  council.  Subse- 
quent he  become  a  sinitor,  an'  later  enthered 
into  partnership  with  th'  Hon.  Jawn  Powers 
in  th'  retail  liquor  traffic.  Mr.  O'Brien  is 
a  fine  built  man,  an'  can  lick  anny  wan  iv 
his  age  west  iv  th'  river,  give  'r  take  tin 
pounds,  color  no  bar.  His  heart  bets  up 
close  to  th'  ribs  iv  th'  common  people,  an' 
he  would  make  opprissors  iv  th'  poor  wish 
they'd  died  early  if  ye  give  him  a  chance 
with  a  beer  bottle.  How's  that  ?  '  says 
Hinnissy. 


io6    THE  O'BRIENS  FOREVER 

"  '  Worse/  says  I.  *  Foolish  man,'  says  I. 
*  Don't  ye  know  that  it  ain't  our  Bill  that's 
been  nommynated  ?  '  I  says.  '  This  is  a 
Nebraska  man,'  I  says.  '  Well,'  he  says, 
'  if  'tis  Bill  O'Brien,  he'd  win  easy.  But,'  he 
says,  'if  'tis  not,'  he  says,  ' 'tis  wan  iv  th' 
fam'ly,'  he  says.  '  I'll  change  this  here 
novel  an'  make  it  a  sketch  iv  th'  cousin  iv 
th'  candydate,'  he  says.  An'  he  wint  on 
with  his  wurruk." 


A  CANDIDATE'S  PILLORY. 

"  What's  this  counthry  comin'  to,  anny- 
how,  that  a  man  that's  out  f  r  to  be  Prisident 
has  to  set  up  on  a  high  chair  an'  be  ques- 
tioned on  his  record  be  a  lot  iv  la-ads  that 
hasn't  had  annything  to  do  since  th'  carpet- 
beatin'  season's  ended  ?  "  said  Mr.  Dooley. 
"  Ye'd  think  Big  Bill  was  r-runnin'  f'r  chief 
ex-icutive  iv  th'  Clan-na-Gael.  First  along 
comes  a  comity  iv  th'  Sons  iv  Rest.  '  Major,' 
says  they,  *  we're  insthructed  be  th'  organiza- 
tion to  ascertain  ye'er  views  on  th'  important, 
we  may  say  all-important,  question  iv  havin' 
wire  matthresses  put  on  th'  benches  in  th' 
parks.  Are  we,'  they  says,  'goin'  f'r  to 
have  to  wear  lumps  on  our  backs  into  all 
eternity,'  they  says,  '  an'  have  our  slumbers 
broke  be  th'  hot  fut  iv  th'  polisman  ?  '  they 
says.  '  We  demand  an  answer,'  they  says, 
'  or,  be  this  an'  be  that,  we  won't  do  a  thing 
to  ye.'  Well,  maybe  Bill  has  been  down  to 
th'  corner  playin'  a  game  iv  spoil-five  with 
his  old  frind  Coalsack,  an'  has  paid  no  attin- 


io8   A  CANDIDATE'S  PILLORY 

tion  to  th'  Sons  iv  Rest.  '  Well,'  he  says, 
*gintlemen,  I'm  in  favor  iv  doin'  ivry thing 
in  reason  f 'r  th'  hoboes,'  he  says.  *  Th' 
protection  iv  th'  home  hobo  again  th'  pauper 
can  trade  iv  Europe,'  he  says,  *  has  been  wan 
iv  th'  principal  wurruks  iv  me  life,'  he  says ; 
an'  he  gives  thim  each  a  hand  out,  an'  bows 
thim  to  th'  dure. 

"In  comes  a  dillygation  fr'm  th'  Union 
iv  Amalgamated  Pantsmakers ;  an'  says  th' 
chairman,  *  Major,'  he  says,  '  we  have  a 
complaint  to  make  again  thim  pants  iv 
ye'ers,'  he  says.  '  What's  th'  matter  with 
th'  pants  ? '  says  th'  future  Prisident.  *  I 
thought  they  looked  all  right,'  he  says.  '  I 
paid  four  dollars  f'r  thim  in  Bucyrus  las' 
year,'  he  says.  *  They  have  no  union  label 
on  thim,'  says  th'  chairman.  *  Do  you 
know,  sir,'  he  says,  *  that  thim  pants  ripri- 
sints  th'  oppression  iv  women  an'  childher  ? ' 
he  says.  '  D'ye  know  that  ivry  thread  in 
thim  seams  means  a  tear  an'  sigh  ? '  says  he. 
^  D'ye  know  that  ivry  time  ye  put  on  thim 
pants  ye  take  a  pair  off  some  down-throdden 


A  CANDIDATE'S  PILLORY   109 

workman  ? '  he  says.  '  Glory  be  ! '  says  Big 
Bill :  '  is  that  thrue  ?  Thin  what  am  I  to 
do  ? '  he  says  in  alarm.  '  Do  ? '  says  th' 
chairman.  '  Wear  pants  that  riprisints  hon- 
est toil  fairly  compinsated,'  he  says.  '  Wear 
pants  that'll  say  to  th'  wurruld  that  Bill 
McKinley's  legs  are  fair  legs  ; '  he  says, '  that 
they  may  bow  at  th'  knees,  but  they  niver 
bow  to  th'  opprissor,'  he  says  ;  *  that  niver 
did  they  wrap  thimsilves  in  bags  that  bore 
th'  curse  iv  monno-poly  an'  greed,'  he  says. 

*  An'  where  can  I  get  thim  ? '  says  th'  major. 
'  Fr'm  me,'  says  th'  frind  iv  labor,  pullin' 
out  a  tape.  *  Will  ye  have  wan  or  two  hip 
pockets  ? '  he  says. 

"An'  so  it  goes.      Ivry  day  a  rayporther 
comes  to  th'  house  with  a  list  iv  questions. 

*  What  are  ye'er  views  on  th'  issue  iv  eatin' 
custard  pie  with  a  sponge  ?  Do  ye  believe  in 
side-combs?  If  called  upon  to  veto  a  bill 
f 'r  all  mimbers  iv  th'  Supreme  Coort  to  wear 
hoop-skirts,  wud  ye  veto  it  or  wudden't  ye  ? 
If  so,  why?  If  not,  why  not?  If  a  batted 
ball  goes  out  iv  th'   line  afther  strikin'  th' 


no   A  CANDIDATE'S  PILLORY 

player's  hands,  is  it  fair  or  who  ?  Have  ye 
that  tired  feelin'  ?  What  is  your  opinion  iv 
a  hereafther  ?  Where  did  you  get  that  hat  ? 
If  a  man  has  eight  dollars  an'  spends  twelve 
iv  it,  what  will  th'  poor  man  do  ?  An'  why 
an'  where  an'  how  much  ? ' 

"  Thin,  if  he  don't  answer,  ivry  wan  says 
he's  a  thrimmer,  an'  ought  to  be  runnin'  a 
sthreet-car  an'  not  thryin'  to  poke  his  onde- 
cided  face  into  th'  White  House.  I  mind 
wanst,  whin  me  frind  O'Brien  was  a  candy- 
date  f'r  aldherman,  a  comity  iv  tax-payers 
waited  on  him  f'r  to  get  his  views  on  th' 
issues  iv  th'  day.  Big  Casey,  th'  house- 
mover,  was  th'  chairman ;  an'  he  says,  says 
he,  '  Misther  O'Brien,'  he  says,  'we  are 
desirous,'  he  says, '  iv  larnin'  where  ye  stand 
on  th'  tariff,  th'  currency  question,  pensions, 
an'  th'  intherstate  commerce  act,'  he  says, 
with  a  wave  iv  his  hand.  '  Well,'  says 
O'Brien,  he  says,  '  th'  issue  on  which  I'm 
appealin'  to  th'  free  an'  indlligent  suffrages 
of  Ar-rchey  Road  an'  th'  assistance  iv  Deerin' 
Sthreet  Stadon,'  he  says,  *  is  whether  little 


A  CANDIDATE'S  PILLORY   iii 

Mike  Kelly  will  have  th'  bridge  or  not,'  he 
says.  'On  that  I  stand,'  he  says.  'As  f'r 
th'  minor  issues,'  he  says,  '  I  may  have  me 
opinions  on  thim  an'  I  may  not.  Anny  in- 
formation I  possess  I'll  keep  tucked  away  in 
this  large  an  commodjous  mind  cage,  an'  not 
be  dealin'  it  out  to  th'  likes  iv  ye,  as  though 
I  was  a  comity  iv  th'  Civic  Featheration,'  he 
says.  '  Moreover,'  he  says,  '  I'd  like  to 
know,  you,  Casey,  what  business  have  you 
got  comin'  roun'  to  my  house  and  pryin'  into 
my  domestic  affairs,'  he  says.  '  'Tis  th' 
intherstate  commerce  act  now,  but  th'  nex' 
thing'U  be  where  I  got  th'  pianny,'  he  says ; 
'  an',  f'r  fear  ye  may  not  stop  where  ye  are, 
here  goes  to  mount  ye.'  An'  he  climbed  th' 
big  man,  an'  rolled  him.  Well,  sir  will  ye 
believe  me,  ivry  man  on  th'  comity  but  wan 
voted  f'r  him.  Casey  was  still  in  bed  ilic- 
tion  day. 

"  I  met  Tom  Dorsey  afther  th'  comity 
called.  'Well,'  says  I,  '  I  heerd  ye  was  up 
to  O'Brien's  questionin'  him  on  th'  issues  iv 
th'  day,'  I  says,     '  We  was,'  says  he.     '  Was 


112  A  CANDIDATE'S  PILLORY 

his  answers  satisfacthry  ? '  says  I.  *  Perfectly 
so,'  he  says.  '  Whin  th'  comity  left,  we  were 
all  convinced  that  he  was  th'  strongest  man 
that  cud  be  nommynated,'  he  says." 


THE  DAY  AFTER  THE  VICTORY. 

"Jawn,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "didn't  we 
give  it  to  thim  ^  " 

"  Give  it  to  who  ?  "  asked  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  To  th'  Dimmycrats,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Mr.  McKenna.  "You're 
a  Democrat  yourself." 

"  Me  ?  "  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  not  on  your 
life.  Not  in  wan  hundherd  thousand  years. 
Me  a  Dimmycrat  ?  I  shud  say  not,  Jawn, 
me  buck.  I'm  the  hottest  kind  iv  a  Ray- 
publican,  me  an'  Maloney.  I  suppose  they 
ain't  two  such  Raypublicans  annywhere. 
How  can  anny  wan  be  annything  else  ?  Who 
was  it  that  saved  the  Union,  Jawn  ?  Who 
was  it?  Who  are  th'  frinds  iv  th'  Irish? 
Who  protecks  th'  poor  wurrukin'man  so 
that  he'll  have  to  go  on  wurrukin'  ?  We 
do,  Jawn.     We   Raypublicans,  by  dad. 

"  They  ain't  a  Dimmycrat  fr'm  wan  end 
iv  th'  road  to  th'  other.  I  just  was  over 
makin'  a  visit  on  Docherty,  an'  he'd  took 
down   th'  picture  iv  Jackson   an'   Cleveland 


114       AFTER  THE  VICTORY 

an'  put  up  wan  iv  Grant  an'  Lincoln. 
Willum  Joyce  have  come  out  f  r  McKinley 
f'r  Prisident,  an'  th'  polisman  on  th'  beat 
told  me  las'  night  that  th'  left'nant  told 
him  that  'twas  time  f'r  a  change.  Th'  Dim- 
mycrats  had  rooned  th'  counthry  with  their 
free  trade  an'  their  foreign  policy  an'  their  I 
dinnaw  what,  an'  'twas  high  time  an  honest 
man  got  a  crack  at  a  down-town  precinct  with 
a  faro  bank  or  two  in  it.  Th'  polisman 
agreed  with  him  that  Cleveland  have  raised 
th'  divvle  with  th'  Constitootion ;  an',  by 
gar,  he's  right,  too.  He's  right,  Jawn.  He 
have  a  boy  in  th'  wather  office. 

"  Ye  mind  Maloney,  th  la-ad  with  th' 
game  eye  ?  He  tends  a  bridge  over  be 
Goose  Island  way,  but  he  was  down  here 
iliction  day.  Two  weeks  befure  iliction  day 
he  was  again  Winter.  '  He's  no  good,'  he 
says.  *  He's  a  Boohemian,'  he  says.  'An' 
whin  they  come  to  ilictin'  Boohemians  f'r 
mayor,'  he  says,  '  I'll  go  back  to  me  ol' 
thrade  iv  shovelin'  mud,'  he  says.  '  Be- 
sides,' says  he,  '  if  this  here  Winter  wint  in,' 


AFTER  THE  VICTORY       115 

he  says,  '  ye  cudden't  stand  acrost  La  Salle 
Street  an'  hand  him  a  peach  on  a  window 
pole,  he'd  be  that  stuck  up,'  he  says. 

"  Some  wan  must  've  spoke  to  him  ;  f'r, 
whin  he  come  in  th'  next  time,  he  says, 
'  They'se  no  use  talkin','  he  says, '  that  there 
Dutchman  is  sthrong,'  he  says.  '  I  thought 
he  was  a  Boolgahrian,'  says  1.  '  No,'  says 
he,  '  he's  a  German  man,'  says  he.  '  An'  th' 
Germans  is  with  him  to  th'  bitther  end,'  he 
says.  '  D'ye  know,'  he  says,  *  I  believe  he'll 
give  th'  little  bald-headed  duck  a  run  f'r  his 
money,'  he  says.  '  Thim  Germans  stand 
together,'  he  says.  '  They're  th'  most  clan- 
nish people  on  earth,'  he  says.  *  I'm  goin' 
over  to  th'  Wolfe  Tones  to  see  what  th' 
la-ads  think  about  it.'  Sundah  night  he 
come  an'  give  a  ca-ard  f'r  Winter  to  ivry 
man  in  th'  place.  *  He'll  sweep  th'  town 
like  a  whirlwind,'  he  says.  '  They  can't 
beat  him.'  'Who?'  says  I.  *  Winter,  iv 
coorse.'  '  Is  he  a  nice  man  ? '  says  I.  '  Wan 
iv  th'  finest  men  on  earth,'  he  says.  'A 
spoort,  too,'  he  says.     '  An'  liberal,' 


ii6       AFTER  THE  VICTORY 

*  He  was  in  here  iliction  day,  an'  I  had 
Hinnissy's  kid  runnin'  fr'm  th'  station  with 
ray  turns.  Maloney  was  talkin'  to  th'  crowd 
an'  buyin'  dhrinks.  '  Ye'd  be  surprised,' 
says  he,  *  to  know  what  a  nice  fellow  this  here 
Winter  is,'  he  says.  '  Ye'd  niver  take  him 
f'r  a  German,'  he  says.  *  He  have  no  more 
accint  thin  mesilf.'  The  kid  come  in,  an' 
says  he,  '  Th'  loot  says  tin  precincts  show- 
Swift  have  a  majority  as  big  as  what  th' 
Raypublicans  got  las*  fall.'  '  That's  bad,' 
says     I.        '  Not    at    all,'     says     Maloney. 

*  Thim's  th'   down-town    wa-ards,'    he  says. 

*  Wait  till  ye  hear  fr'm  th'  Germans,'  he 
says.  Th'  nex'  booletin  said  Swift  was 
gainin',    an'     had     tin     thousand     majority. 

*  Niver  mind,'  says  Maloney.  '  Th'  Ger- 
mans '11  wipe  that  out,'  he  says.  Thin  we 
heerd    it    was     twinty    thousand     f'r    Swift. 

*  Glory  be,'  says  Maloney,  '  th'  Germans  is 
slow  comin'  in,'  he  says.     *  Maybe,'  says  1, 

*  they  forgot  to  vote,'  says  I.  '  Maybe 
they're  havin'  a  schootzenfist,'  I  says,  '  an' 
are  out  killin'  clay  pigeons  instid  iv  attendin' 


AFTER  THE  VICTORY       117 

to  business,'  I  says.  Just  thin  th'  loot 
come  in.  '  Well,'  says  he,  '  'tis  quite  a 
Waterloo,'  says  he.  '  F'r  who?'  says  J. 
*  Oh,'  he  says,  *  Swift  got  it  be  forty  thou- 
sand.' 

"  Maloney  wiped  his  face,  and  took  off 
his  hat  an'  swabbed  it  inside.  Thin  says 
he  :  *  D'ye  raymimber  me  meetin'  ye  down- 
town a  week  ago  on  Dorney's  place,  loot  ? ' 
he  says.  '  Yes,'  says  th'  loot.  *  D'ye  mind 
what  I  said  thin  ? '  he  says.  '  I  don't  call  it 
just  now,'  says  the  loot.  '  Well,  I  just  come 
fr'm  a  meetin'  iv  th'  Swift  Marchin'  Club,  an' 
I  niver  seen  so  much  enthusyasm  ;  an'  I  says 
to  ye,  I  says  :  '  Loot,'  I  says,  *  Swift  '11  bate 
him  aisy,'  I  says.  '  I  knew  he  would  fr'm  th' 
beginnin'.  Ye  take  an'  put  up  a  good  broad 
liberal  man  like  George  B.,  a  man  that  has 
frinds  an'  knows  how  to  be  a  good  fellow, 
an'  run  him  again  a  Boohemian  gazabo 
who  gives  ivry  man  th'  marble  heart  an'  'd 
turn  down  his  own  brother,  an'  anny  fool 
cud  tell  who'd  win.  They'll  be  some  chance 
f'r  a  man  with  Swift  over  there  ;  but,  if  this 


ii8       AFTER  THE  VICTORY 

here  Winter  wint  in,  ye  cudden't  stand  acrost 
La  Salle  Sthreet  an'  hand  him  a  peach  on  th' 
end  iv  a  window  pole,'  he  says. 

"  Will  he  lose  his  job  ?  Not  much,  Jawn. 
That  la-ad  '11  be  swingin'  bridges  an'  throw- 
in'  away  th'  crust  iv  his  pie  whin  you  an'  me 
are  atin'  ha-ard  coal.  He  will  that.  But 
what  do  I  care  ?  Machs  nix  aus,  Jawn  ;  an' 
that  being  translated  manes,  *  What  th' 
'elL'  " 


A  VISIT  TO  JEKYL  ISLAND. 

"I'd  like  to  been  there,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 

"Where's  that?"   Mr.  Hennessy  asked. 

"At  Shekel  Island,"  said  Mr.  Dooley, 
"  seein'  me  frind  Mack  an'  me  frind  Tom 
Reed  meetin'  be  th'  sad  sea  waves. 

"  Ye  see,  Mack  was  down  there  with  Mark 
Hanna.  He  was  tired  out  with  expandin', 
an'  anxiety  f 'r  fear  me  frind  Alger  'd  ray- 
sign  ;  an'  says  Hanna,  he  says, '  Come  down,' 
he  says,  '  with  me,'  he  says,  '  to  Shekel 
Island,'  he  says.  '  'Tis  th'  home  iv  rayfine- 
mint  an'  riches,'  he  says,  '  where  us  mill- 
yionaires  rest  fr'm  takin'  care  iv  th'  coun- 
thry,'  he  says.  '  There  in  th'  shade  iv  th' 
coupon  threes,'  he  says,  '  we  watch  th'  sea 
waves,  an'  wondher,'  he  says,  *  whin  th'  goold 
that's  in  thim  can  be  exthracted,'  he  says. 
'  They'se  nawthin'  to  break  th'  silence,'  he 
says,  '  but  th'  roarin'  iv  th  ocean,'  he  says  ; 
'  an'  that  sounds  nat'ral,'  he  says,  '  because 
'tis  almost  like  th'  sound  iv  th'  stock  ex- 
change,' he  says.     '  A  man,'  he    says,  '  that 


I20  A  VISIT  TO  JEKYL  ISLAND 

has  th'  ticker  eye,'  he  says,  '  or  th'  coupon 
thumb,'  he  says,  *  is  cured  in  no  time,'  he 
says.  '  Come,'  he  says,  '  fly  with  me,'  he 
says.  '  They'se  nawthin'  to  keep  ye  here,' 
he  says.  '  Ivry  wan  iv  th'  cab'net,  includin' 
th'  Sicrety  iv  War,  '11  stick  to  his  place,'  he 
says,  '  like  a  man,'  he  says. 

"  An'  Mack  wint  with  him.  He  was  set- 
tin'  on  th'  beach  in  a  goold  chair,  surrounded 
be  millyionaires,  with  th'  prisident  iv  a  bank 
fannin'  him  an'  th'  threeasurer  iv  a  dimon' 
mine  poorin'  his  dhrink ;  an',  though  he 
was  feelin'  well,  they  was  something  on  his 
rnind.  'What  ails  ye?'  ast  Hanna.  'I 
was  thinkin','  says  Mack,  '  how  pleasant 
'twud  be  if  me  ol'  frind  Tom  Reed  was 
here,'  he  says.  '  'Twud  be  Paradise  if  he 
was  here,'  he  says,  whin,  lo  an'  behold, 
who  shud  come  acrost  th'  dimon'-studded 
beach,  wadin'  through  th'  bank-notes  that'd 
been  dropped  be  th'  good  farmers  iv  Shekel 
Island,  but  Tom  Reed. 

"  Well,  sir,  to  see  th'  affection  that  those 
two  great  men  showed  at  th'  encounther  'd 


A  VISIT  TO  JEKYL  ISLAND  121 

dhraw  tears  fr'm  th'  eyes  iv  a  hear-rt  iv 
sthone.  '  Tom,'  says  Mack,  in  faltherin'  ac- 
cints, 'where  have  ye  been?  F'r  days  an' 
days  I've  skinned  yon  blue  horizon  f'r  anny 
sign  iv  ye,'  he  says.  '  An'  ye  come  not,'  he 
says.  '  I  didn't  think  I  cud  miss  ye  so,'  he 
says.  '  Embrace  me,'  he  says,  '  if  ye  ar-re 
not  ar-rmed,'  he  says.  '  Mack,'  says  me 
frind  Tom  Reed,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
'  this,'  he  says,  '  is  th'  happiest  moment  iv 
me  Hfe,'  he  says.  '  I  cudden't,'  he  says,  '  I 
cudden't  stay  in  Wash'nton,'  he  says,  '  with 
you  so  far  away,'  he  says,  '  where  I  cudden't 
watch  ye,'  he  says.  '  Ye're  th'  on'y  man  in 
th'  wurruld  I  care  f'r,'  he  says,  *  but  mesilf ' 
he  says.  'An','  he  says,  'I'd  fall  weepin' 
on  ye'er  shoulder  this  minyit,'  he  says ;  '  but 
I  don't  want  to  be  disrayspectful  be  turnin' 
me  back  on  Misther  Hanna,'  he  says. 

"  '  Well,'  says  Mack,  '  sit  down,'  he  says. 
'  Rockyfeller,'  he  says,  *  tell  Morgan  f'r  to 
fetch  up  a  kag  iv  sherry  wine,'  he  says. 
'  Tom,'  he  says, '  we've  been  frinds  f'r  years,' 
he  says.     '  We  have,'  says  Tom.     '  We've 


122  A  VISIT  TO  JEKYL  ISLAND 

concealed  it  fr'm  th'  vulgar  an'  pryin'  pub- 
lic,' he  says  ;  '  but  in  our  hear-rts  we've  been 
frinds,  barrin'  th'  naygur  dillygates  at  th' 
convintion,'  he  says.  ''Twas  a  mere  inci- 
dent,' says  Mack.  '  We've  been  frinds,'  he 
says;  'an'  I've  always  wanted,'  he  says,  'to 
do  something  f 'r  ye,'  he  says.  '  Th'  time 
has  come,'  he  says,  '  whin  I  can  realize  me 
wish,'  he  says.  '  I  offer  ye,'  he  says,  '  th' 
Prisidincy,  to  succeed  me,'  he  says.  '  No, 
no,'  he  says,  '  I'll  not  be  rayfused,'  he  says. 
'  I'm  tired  iv  it,'  he  says.  '  'Twas  foorced 
on  me  be  foolish  frinds,'  he  says;  'but  I'm 
not  th'  man  f 'r  th'  place,'  he  says.  '  I 
haven't  dhrawn  a  comfortable  breath,  not  to 
speak  iv  salary,  since  I  wint  in,'  he  says. 

"  Th'  speaker  iv  th'  house  burrid  his  face 
in  his  hands,  an'  sobs  shook  him  partly  f 'r 
manny  minyits.  Thin  he  raised  his  head,  an' 
says  he,  '  Mack,'  he  says,  '  I  can't  take  it,' 
he  says.  '  'Tis  most  gin'rous  iv  ye,'  he  says, 
'  but  me  hear-rt  fails  me,'  he  says.  '  What 
is  it  to  be  Prisident? '  says  he.  '  Th'  White 
House,'  he  says,  '  is  a  prison,'  he  says,  '  to 


A  VISIT  TO  JEKYL  ISLAND   123 

which  a  man  is  condimned,'  he  says,  '  f'r 
fine  wurruk  at  th'  polls,'  he  says.  *  Th'  life 
W  a  Prisident  is  slavery,'  he  says,  '  If  I  was 
to  take  th'  job,'  he  says,  'I'd  be  tortured 
day  an'  night,'  he  says,  '  be  th'  fear  iv  assas- 
sination,' he  says.  '  Think,'  he  says,  *  iv 
L^ome  arnychist  shootin'  thirteen-inch  shells 
at  me,'  he  says,  '  an'  maybe,'  he  says,  '  dent- 
in' me,'  he  says.  '  No,'  he  says,  '  I  have  a 
good  job  where  I  am,'  he  says.  '  All  I've 
got  to  do,'  he  says, '  is  to  set  up  at  th'  desk,' 
he  says,  *  an'  not  recall  th'  names  iv  th'  gin- 
tlemin  on  th'  flure,  an'  me  jooty's  done,'  he 
says.  '  I  thank  ye  kindly,  Willum ;  but 
I  cannot  accept  ye'er  gin'rous  offer,'  he 
says.  *  Go  back  to  th'  cell,'  he  says,  *  an' 
slave  like  a  convict,'  he  says.  '  I  will  not 
rob  me  frind,'  he  says,  *  iv  such  an  honor. 
But,'  he  says,  *  tell  me  whin  ye  thought  iv 
throwin'  up  th'  job,  an'  lavin'  me  br-reak 
into  this  hateful  prison,'  he  says.  '  About 
th'  year  two  thousan'  an'  eight,  dear  frind,' 
says  Mack.  '  No,  no,'  says  Tom  Reed. 
'  I     cannot     accept    it,'     he     says,    pressin' 


124  A  VISIT  TO  JEKYL  ISLAND 

Mack's   hand.     '  'Tis   too    much,'   he   says, 

*  an'  too  long,'  he  says. 

"'I  lave  ye,'  he  says,  'but  I'll  call  on  ye,' 
he  says.  '  Take,'  he  says,  '  this  little  silver- 
mounted  bottle  iv  broomo-cafFeen,'  he  says, 

*  an'  think  iv  me,'  he  says.  '  I  will,'  says 
Mack.  *  Ar-ren't  ye  tired  iv  ye'er  long  jour- 
ney ? '  he  says.  '  Wudden't  ye  like  to  take 
a  bath  in  th'  shark  pond  befure  ye  go  ?  '  he 
says.  An'  so  they  backed  away  fr'm  each 
other,  th'  tears  rollin'  down  their  cheeks. 
Frindship,  Hinnissy,  is  a  sacred  thing." 

"It  is,"  said  Mr.  Hennessy,  "if  they 
are ;  but  I  don't  b'lieve  wan  wurrud  ye 
tol'  me," 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  if  they  ain't 
both  frinds,  wan  iv  thim  is.  An',  annyhow, 
I'm  glad  to  know  Tom  Reed  ain't  thryin'  to 
break  into  jail." 


SLAVIN  CONTRA  WAGNER. 

"  Ol'  man  Donahue  bought  Molly  a 
pianny  las'  week,"  Mr.  Dooley  said  in  the 
course  of  his  conversation  with  Mr.  Mc- 
Kenna.  "  She'd  been  takin'  lessons  fr'm 
a  Dutchman  down  th'  sthreet,  an'  they  say 
she  can  play  as  aisy  with  her  hands  crossed 
as  she  can  with  wan  finger.  She's  been 
whalin'  away  iver  since,  an'  Donahue  is 
dhrinkin'  again. 

"Ye  see  th'  other  night  some  iv  th'  la-ads 
wint  over  f  r  to  see  whether  they  cud  smash 
his  table  in  a  frindly  game  iv  forty-fives.  I 
don't  know  what  possessed  Donahue.  He 
niver  asked  his  frinds  into  the  parlor  befure. 
They  used  to  set  in  th'  dining-room  ;  an', 
whin  Mrs.  Donahue  coughed  at  iliven 
o'clock,  they'd  toddle  out  th'  side  dure  with 
their  hats  in  their  hands.  But  this  here 
night,  whether  'twas  that  Donahue  had 
taken  on  a  dhrink  or  two  too  much  or  not, 
he  asked  thim  all  in  th'  front  room,  where 
Mrs.     Donahue    was    settin'     with     Molly. 


126  SLAVIN  CONTRA  WAGNER 

*  I've  brought  me  frinds,'  he  says,  '  f 'r  to 
hear  Molly  take  a  fall  out  iv  th'  music-box,' 
he  says.  '  Let  me  have  ye'er  hat,  Mike,' 
he  says.  '  Ye'U  not  feel  it  whin  ye  get  out,' 
he  says. 

"  At  anny  other  time  Mrs.  Donahue'd  give 
him  th'  marble  heart.  But  they  wasn't  a 
man  in  th'  party  that  had  a  pianny  to  his 
name,  an'  she  knew  they'd  be  throuble  whin 
they  wint  home  an'  tould  about  it.  '  'Tis  a 
mel-odjious  insthrument,'  says  she.  *  I  cud 
sit  here  be  the  hour  an'  listen  to  Bootoven 
and  Choochooski,'  she  says. 

"'What    did    thim  write?'  says  Cassidy. 

*  Chunes,'  says  Donahue,  '  chunes.  Molly,' 
he  says,  '  fetch  'er  th'  wallop  to  make  th' 
gintlemen  feel  good,'  he  says.  '  What'll  it 
be,  la-ads  ?  '  '  D'ye  know  "  Down  be  th' 
Tan-yard  Side  "  ?  '  says  Slavin.  '  No,'  says 
Molly.     '  It    goes    like     this,'    says    Slavin. 

*  A-ah,  din  yadden,  yooden  a-yadden,  arrah 
yadden  ay-a.'  '  I  dinnaw  it,'  says  th'  girl. 
'  'Tis  a  low  chune,  annyhow,'  says  Mrs. 
Donahue,     '  Misther  Slavin  ividintly  thinks 


SLAVIN  CONTRA  WAGNER    127 

he's  at  a  polis  picnic,'  she  says.  *  I'll  have 
no  come-all-ye's  in  this  house,'  she  says. 
'  Molly,  give  us  a  few  ba-ars  fr'm  Wagner.' 
'  What  Wagner's  that  ?  '  says  Flanagan. 
'  No  wan  ye  know,'  says  Donahue  ;  '  he's 
a  German  musician.'  '  Thim  Germans  is 
hot  people  f 'r  music,'  says  Cassidy.  '  I 
knowed  wan  that  cud  play  th'  "  Wacht  am 
Rhine  "  on  a  pair  iv  cymbals,'  he  says. 
'  Whisht !  '  says  Donahue.  *  Give  th'  girl  a 
chanst.' 

"  Slavin  tol'  me  about  it.  He  says  he 
niver  heerd  th'  like  in  his  born  days.  He 
says  she  fetched  th'  piannv  two  or  three 
wallops  that  made  Cassidy  jump  out  iv  his 
chair,  an'  Cassidy  has  charge  iv  th'  steam 
whistle  at  th'  quarry  at  that.  She  wint  at  it 
as  though  she  had  a  gredge  at  it.  First 
'twas  wan  hand  an'  thin  th'  other,  thin  both 
hands,  knuckles  down  ;  an'  it  looked,  says 
Slavin,  as  if  she  was  goin'  to  leap  into  th' 
middle  iv  it  with  both  feet,  whin  Don- 
ahue jumps  up.  *  Hoi'  on  !  '  he  says. 
*  That's  not  a  rented  pianny,  ye  daft  girl,'  he 


128   SLAVIN  CONTRA  WAGNER 

says.     '  Why,  pap-pah,'    says   Molly,  '  what 
d'ye    mean  ?  '  she    says.     '  That's  Wagner, 
she   says.     '  'Tis  th'    music    iv    th'    future, 
she  says.     '  Yes,'  says  Donahue, '  but  I  don't 
want  me  hell  on  earth.      I  can  wait  f'r  it, 
he  says,  '  with  th'  kind  permission  iv  Mrs 
Donahue,'   he  says.     '  Play  us   th'  "  Wick- 
low   Mountaineer,"  '   he  says,  'an'  threat  th 
masheen  kindly,'   he  says,     '  She'll  play  no 
"  Wicklow  Mountaineer,"  '  says  Mrs.  Don- 
ahue.    Mf  ye    want    to    hear   that  kind   iv 
chune,  ye  can  go  down  to  Finucane's  Hall,' 
she    says,    '  an'    call    in    Crowley,    th'    blind 
piper,'  she  says.     '  Molly,'  she  says,  *  give 
us   wan    iv  thim    Choochooski   things,'    she 
said.     '  They're  so  ginteel.' 

"  With  that  Donahue  rose  up.  '  Come 
on,'  says  he.  'This  is  no  place  f'r  us,'  he 
says.  Slavin,  with  th'  politeness  iv  a  man 
who's  gettin'  even,  turns  at  th'  dure.  'I'm 
sorry  I  can't  remain,'  he  says.  '  I  think  th' 
wurruld  an'  all  iv  Choochooski,'  he  says. 
'  Me  brother  used  to  play  his  chunes,'  he 
says, — '  me     brother     Mike,    that    run    th' 


SLAVIN  CONTRA  WAGNER   129 

grip  ca-ar,'  he  says.     '  But  there's  wan  thing 
missin'  fr'm  Molly's  playin',  he  says.     '  And 
what  may   that    be  ? '   says    Mrs.    Donahue. 
*An  ax,*  says  Slavin,  backin'  out. 
"  So  Donahue  has  took  to  dhrink." 


GRAND    OPERA. 

"  Jawn,"  said  Mr,  Dooley,  "  'tis  a  gr-reat 
thing  to  be  a  polisman.  Me  frind  Doheny, 
what  used  to  be  at  Deerin'  Sthreet,  have  got 
on  th'  crossin',  an'  they've  planted  him  down 
be  th'  Audjitooroom.  He  was  up  here  las' 
week,  an'  says  he,  '  Run  in,  an'  look  at  th' 
op'ra,'  says  he.  '  Run  in,  an'  take  a  flash  iv 
it,'  he  says.  '  'Tis  gr-reat,'  he  says.  So  I 
takes  Duggan,  an'  we  goes  down  together. 

"  Well,  Doheny  does  be  gr-reat  paper  with 
thim.  He  was  standin'  be  th'  dure,  with 
white  gloves  over  his  hands ;  an',  whin  we 
come,  he  give  th'  office  to  th'  la-ad  on  th' 
gate,  an'  says  th'  la-ad,  '  Sure  thing,'  he 
says,  '  Sure  thing,'  an'  in  we  goes.  They 
was  a  lot  iv  Gazoorios  there,  some  iv  thim 
settin'  in  seats  an'  some  iv  thim  in  bur-rd 
cages  up  above,  an'  more  standin'.  Thim 
standin'  was  th'  la-ads  that  Doheny  rushed 
in.  Ye  niver  see  such  a  lot  iv  thim, 
—  Cassidy,  O'Regan,  Hogan,  Mulcahey, 
Shay,    Mullaney,    MuUvihill,    an'   th'   eight 


GRAND  OPERA  131 

O'Neills, —  all  sint  through  be  Doheny 
without  cridintials.  Sure,  it  looked  like  a 
meetin'  iv  th'  Wolf  Tones.      It  did  that. 

"  Th'  op'ra  was  on  whin  we  wint  in,  an* 
they  was  whalin'  away  in  Eyetallian.  Dug- 
gan  listened  ;  an'  says  he,  '  What's  the  man 
sayin'? '  he  says.  '  I  dinnaw,'  I  says.  '  He's 
talkin'  Chinese,  an  ','  says  I, '  they're  goin'  to 
sind  him  to  th'  laundhry,'  says  I.  '  Look,' 
I  says.  *  They're  puttin'  him  in  th'  clothes- 
basket,'  I  says.  '  If  they  do,'  says  he, 
'he'll  niver  come  back,'  he  says,  'or  else 
he'll  have  another  name,'  he  says.  '  Let's 
buy  a  scoor  ca-ard,'  says  he.  So  he  bought 
wan,  an'  was  r-readin'  it  an'  lookin'  over  th' 
top  iv  it  at  th'  women  in  th'  boxes,  an'  won- 
dhrin'  why  some  wan  didn't  tell  thim  their 
dhresses  was  slippin'  down,  whin  over  comes 
Cassidy,  and  says  he,  '  What's  th'  news  in 
th'  Sixth?'  'Nawthin,'  says  Duggan. 
'Will  O'Brien  win? '  says  Cassidy.  'They 
can't  beat  him,'  says  Duggan.  '  I  dinnaw,' 
says  Cassidy.  '  Come  over  here,  an'  I'll  tell 
ye,'  says  Duggan.     Dinny  Shay  an'   Hogan 


132  GRAND  OPERA 

an'  Mullaney  jined  us,  an'  we  wint  an'  set  on 
the  steps. 

"  '  Can  Winter  beat  Swift  ? '  says  Shay. 
'  I'd  like  to  know,'  says  Hogan.  *  I  don't 
know  who  to  vote  f'r,'  he  says;  'an'  Mike 
is  in  th'  wather  office,'  he  says.  '  'Tis  a 
cinch  Hinky'll  win  out  in  th'  First,'  says 
Mullaney.  *  He  have  a  sthrong  man  again 
him,'  says  Hogan.  '  Gleason  have  wan  or 
two  lodgin'-houses.'  '  Three,'  says  Shay ; 
'  but  Hinkey  knows  all  th'  lodgers,'  he  says. 
'  'Twas  a  mane  thing  th'  main  guy  done  with 
Callaghan,'  says  Hogan.  'What's  that?' 
says  Shay.  '  Thrun  him  off  th'  bridge,' 
says  Hogan,  '  because  he  come  fr'm  Kerry,' 
he  says.  '  I  don't  believe  wan  wurrud  iv  it,' 
says  Mullaney.  '  They're  more  Kerry  men 
on  bridges  thin  anny  other  counties,'  he 
says.  '  What  has  bet  Hopkins,'  he  says, '  is 
his  frindship  fr'm  th'  Mayo  men,'  he  says. 
'  Th'  Mayo  men  is  great  f'r  carryin'  prim'- 
riesj  afther  they're  over,'  he  says.  '  But 
did  anny  wan  iver  hear  iv  thim  doin'  anny 
good  whin   th'   votes  was   bein'    cast ?  '     'I 


GRAND  OPERA  133 

knowed  wan  that  did,'  says  Cassidy,  as 
black  as  ye'er  boot.  *  His  name  was  Cas- 
sidy,' he  says ;  '  an'  he  done  some  good,'  he 
says,  '  be  privintin'  a  man  be  th'  name  iv 
Mullaney,'  he  says,  '  fr'm  bein'  a  dilligate.' 
'Ye  had  th'  polis  with  ye,'  says  Mullaney. 
*Ye  was  supported  be  th'  fire  departmint,' 
says  Cassidy. 

"  *  Let's  change  th'  subject,'  says  Duggan. 

*  What  show  has  Dorsey  got  in  th'  Twinty- 
ninth  ?  *  None  at  all,'  says  wan  iv  th' 
O'Neills  who'd  come  over.  '  He  have  th* 
Civic  Featheration  again  him.'  *  Who  cares 
fr  th'  Civic  Featheration  ? '  says  Mulcahey. 
'  They  don't  vote,'  he  says.  '  What'll  kill 
Dorsey,'   he  says,  '  is  his  bein'  an  Apee-a.' 

*  He's  no  Apee-a,'  says  Mike  O'Neill.  '  I 
wint  to  th'  Brothers'  school  with  him,'  he 
says,  *  Whiniver  a  man  comes  up  that  can't 
be  downed  anny  way,  he's  called  an  Apee-a,' 
he  says.  '  He's  no  more  an  Apee-a  thin  ye 
are,'  he  says.  '  D'ye  mean  to  call  me  that  ? ' 
says  Mulcahey.  '  Come  out,  an*  have  a 
dhrink,'  I  says ;  an'  we  wint  down. 


134  GRAND  OPERA 

"  Well,  Jawn,  we  had  wan  iv  th'  liveliest 
political  argumints  ye  iver  see  without  so 
much  as  a  blow  bein'  sthruck.  Evenly 
matched,  d'ye  mind,  with  a  chair  f'r  ivry 
man.  An'  th'  bar-tinder  was  a  frind  iv  mine. 
1  knowed  him  whin  he  was  with  Schwartz- 
meister.     A  good  la-ad, —  a  good  lad." 

"  But  what  about  th'  opera?  "  asked  Mr. 
McKenna. 

"  Th  op'ra  wus  gr-reat,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley  ;  "  but  I  think  Mulcahey  was  right. 
Dorsey  can't  win." 


THE    CHURCH    FAIR. 

"  Wanst  I  knew  a  man,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley,  laying  down  his  newspaper,  "  be  th' 
name  iv  BurLce,  that  come  fr'm  somewhere 
around  Derry,  though  he  was  no  Pres- 
byteryan.  He  was  iv  th'  right  sort.  Well, 
he  was  feelin'  how- come- ye -so,  an'  he 
dhrifted  over  to  where  we  was  holdin'  a  fair. 
They  was  a  band  outside,  an'  he  thought  it 
was  a  grand  openin'.  So  he  come  in  with  a 
cigar  in  th'  side  iv  his  mouth  an'  his  hat 
hangin'  onto  his  ear.  It  was  th'  last  night 
iv  th'  fair,  an'  ivrything  was  wide  open  ;  f 'r 
th'  priest  had  gone  home,  an'  we  wanted 
f'r  to  break  th'  record.  This  Burke  was 
f 'r  lavin'  whin  he  see  where  he  was  ;  but  we 
run  him  again  th'  shootin'  gallery,  where  ye 
got  twinty-five  cints,  a  quarther  iv  a  dollar, 
f'r  ivry  time  ye  rang  th'  bell.  Th'  ol'  gun 
we  had  was  crooked  as  a  ram's  horn,  but  it 
must  've  fitted  into  Burke's  squint ;  f'r  he 
made  that  there  bell  ring  as  if  he  was  a  con- 
ducthor  iv  a  grip-car  roundin'  a  curve.     He 


136         THE  CHURCH   FAIR 

had  th'  shootin'  gallery  on  its  last  legs  whin 
we  run  him  again  th'  wheel  iv  fortune.  He 
broke  it.  Thin  we  thried  him  on  th'  grab- 
bag.  They  was  four  goold  watches  an'  anny 
quantity  iv  brickbats  an'  chunks  iv  coal  in 
th'  bag.  He  had  four  dives,  an'  got  a  watch 
each  time.  He  took  a  chanst  on  ivrything; 
an'  he  won  a  foldin'-bed,  a  doll  that  cud  talk 
like  an  old  gate,  a  pianny,  a  lamp-shade,  a 
Life  iv  St.  Aloysius,  a  pair  iv  shoes,  a  base- 
ball bat,  an  ice-cream  freezer,  an'  th'  pomes 
iv  Mike  Scanlan. 

"  Th'  comity  was  disthracted.  Here  was 
a  man  that  'd  break  th'  fair,  an'  do  it  with  th' 
best  iv  humor;  f'r  he  come  fr'm  another 
parish.  So  we  held  a  private  session. 
'*What  '11  we  do?'  says  Dorgan,  th'  chair- 
man. They  was  a  man  be  th'  name  iv 
Flaherty,  a  good  man  thin  an'  a  betther  now ; 
f'r  he's  dead,  may  he  rest  in  peace !  An' 
Flaherty  says  :  *  We've  got  to  take  th'  bull 
be  th'  horns,'  he  says.  '  If  ye  lave  him  to 
me,'  he  says,  *  I'll  fix  him,'  he  says. 

So  he  injooced  this  man   Burke  to  come 


THE  CHURCH   FAIR         137 

down  back  iv  th'  shootin'  gallery,  an'  says  he 
to  Burke,  *  Ye're  lucky  to-night.'  '  Not  so 
very,'  says  Burke.  '  'Twud  be  a  shame  to 
lave  ye  get  away  with  all  ye  won,'  says 
Flaherty.  '  'Twill  be  a  great  inconvanience,' 
says  Burke.  '  I'll  have  to  hire  two  or  three 
dhrays,'  he  says  ;  '  an'  'tis  late.'  '  Well,'  says 
Flaherty,  '  I'm  appinted  be  th'  parish  to 
cut  th'  ca-ards  with  ye,'  he  says,  '  whether 
ye're  to  give  back  what  ye  won  or  take 
what's  left.'  *  'Tis  fair,'  says  Burke  ;  '  an', 
whoiver  wins,  'tis  f 'r  a  good  cause.'  An'  he 
puts  th'  watches  an'  th'  money  on  th'  table. 

" '  High  man,'  says  Flaherty.  '  High 
man,'  says  Burke.  Flaherty  cut  th'  king  iv 
spades.  Burke,  th'  robber,  cut  th'  ace  iv 
hearts.  He  was  rcachin'  out  f 'r  th'  money, 
whin  Flaherty  put  his  hands  over  it.  '  Wud 
ye  take  it  ? '  says  he.  '  I  wud,'  says  Burke. 
*  Wud  ye  rob  th'  church  ? '  says  Flaherty. 
'  I  wud,'  says  Burke.  '  Thin,'  says  Flaherty, 
scoopin'  it  in,  'ye're  a  heretic;  an'  they'se 
nawthin'  comin'  to  ye.' 

"  Burke  looked  at  him,  an'  he  looked  at 


138         THE  CHURCH  FAIR 

th'  comity  ;  an'  he  says,  '  Gintlemen,  if  iver 
ye  come  over  in  th'  Sixth  Ward,  dhrop  in  an' 
see  me,'  he  says.  *  I'll  thry  an'  make  it 
plisint  f 'r  ye,'  he  says.     An'  he  wint  away. 

"Th'  story  got  out,  an'  th'  good  man 
heerd  iv  it.  He  was  mighty  mad  about  it; 
an'  th'  nex'  sermon  he  preached  was  on  th' 
evils  iv  gamblin',  but  he  asked  Flaherty  f'r 
to  take  up  th'  colliction." 


THE   WANDERERS. 

"Poor  la-ads,  poor  la-ads,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley,  putting  aside  his  newspaper  and  rub- 
bing his  glasses.  "  'Tis  a  hard  lot  theirs,  thim 
that  go  down  into  th'  sea  in  ships,  as  Shakec- 
peare  says.  Ye  niver  see  a  storm  on  th' 
ocean?  Ivcoorse  ye  didn't.  Flow  cud  ye,  ye 
that  was  born  away  fr'm  home  ?  But  I  have, 
Jawn.  May  th'  saints  save  me  fr'm  another  ! 
I  come  over  in  th'  bowels  iv  a  big  crazy 
balloon  iv  a  propeller,  like  wan  iv  thim  ye 
see  hooked  up  to  Dempsey's  dock,  loaded 
with  lumber  an'  slabs  an'  Swedes.  We 
watched  th'  little  ol'  island  fadin'  away 
behind  us,  with  th'  sun  sthrikin'  th'  white 
house-tops  iv  Oueenstown  an'  lightin'  up 
th'  chimbleys  iv  Martin  Hogan's  liquor 
store.  Not  wan  iv  us  but  had  left  near  all 
we  loved  behind,  an'  sare  a  chance  that  we'd 
iver  spoon  th'  stirabout  out  iv  th'  pot  above 
th'  ol'  peat  fire  again.  Yes,  by  dad,  there  was 
wan, —  a  lad  fr'm  th'  County  Roscommon. 
Divvle  th'  tear  he  shed.      But,  whin  we  had 


140  THE  WANDERERS 

parted  fr'm  land,  he  turns  to  me,  an'  says, 
*  Well,  we're  on  our  way,'  he  says.  '  We 
are  that,'  says  L  *  No  chanst  f'r  thim  to 
turn  around  an'  go  back,'  he  says.  '  Divvle 
th'  fut,'  says  I.  'Thin,'  he  says,  raisin'  his 
voice,  '  to  'ell  with  th'  Prince  iv  Wales,'  he 
says.     '  To  'ell  with  him,'  he  says. 

"  An'  that  was  th'  last  we  see  of  sky  or 
sun  f'r  six  days.  That  night  come  up  th' 
divvle's  own  storm.  Th'  waves  tore  an' 
walloped  th'  ol'  boat,  an'  th'  wind  howled, 
an'  ye  cud  hear  th'  machinery  snortin'  be- 
yant.  Murther,  but  I  was  sick.  Wan  time 
th'  ship  'd  be  settin'  on  its  tail,  another  it  'd 
be  standin'  on  its  head,  thin  rollin'  over 
cow-like  on  th'  side  ;  an'  ivry  time  it  lurched 
me  stummick  lurched  with  it,  an'  I  was  tore 
an'  rint  an'  racked  till,  if  death  come,  it  'd 
found  me  willin'.  An'  th'  Roscommon  man, 
—  glory  be,  but  he  was  disthressed.  He  set 
on  th'  flure,  with  his  hands  on  his  belt  an' 
his  face  as  white  as  stone,  an'  rocked  to  an' 
fro.  '  Ahoo,'  he  says,  '  ahoo,  but  me  insides 
has  torn  loose,'  he  says,  '  an'  are  tumblin' 
around,'   he  says.     '  Say   a   pather  an'  avy,' 


THE  WANDERERS  141 

says  I,  I  was  that  mad  f'r  th'  big  bos- 
thoon  f'r  his  blatherin'.  '  Say  a  pather  an' 
avy,'  I  says  ;  f'r  ye're  near  to  death's  dure, 
avick.'  '  Am  I  ? '  says  he,  raising  up. 
*  Thin,'  he  says,  '  to  'ell  with  the  whole  rile 
fam'ly,'  he  says.      Oh,  he  was  a  rebel  ! 

"  Through  th'  storm  there  was  a  babby 
cryin'.  'Twas  a  little  wan,  no  more  thin  a 
year  ol';  an'  'twas  owned  be  a  Tipp'rary 
man  who  come  fr'm  near  Clonmel,  a  poor, 
weak,  scarey-lookin'  little  divvle  that  lost 
his  wife,  an'  see  th'  bailiff  walk  off  with  th' 
cow,  an'  thin  see  him  come  back  again  with 
th'  process  servers.  An'  so  he  was  comin' 
over  with  th'  babby,  an'  bein'  mother  an' 
father  to  it.  He'd  rock  it  be  th'  hour  on 
his  knees,  an'  talk  nonsense  to  it,  an' 
sing  it  songs,  '  Aha,  'twas  there  I  met  a 
maiden,'  an'  *  Th'  Wicklow  Mountaineer,' 
an'  *  Th'  Rambler  fr'm  Clare,'  an'  '  O'Donnel 
Aboo,'  croonin'  thim  in  th'  little  babby's 
ears,  an'  payin'  no  attintion  to  th'  poorin' 
thunder  above  his  head,  day  an'  night,  day 
an'  night,  poor  soul.  An'  th'  babby  cryin' 
out  his  heart,  an'  him  settin'  there  with  his 


142  THE  WANDERERS 

eyes  as  red  as  his  hair,  an'  makin'  no  kick, 
poor  soul. 

"  But  wan  day  th'  ship  settled  down 
steady,  an'  ragin'  stummicks  with  it ;  an'  th' 
Roscommon  man  shakes  himself,  an'  says, 
'  To  *ell  with  th'  Prince  iv  Wales  an'  th' 
Dook  iv  Edinboroo,'  an'  goes  out.  An'  near 
all  th'  steerage  followed ;  f 'r  th'  storm  had 
done  its  worst,  an'  gone  on  to  throuble 
those  that  come  afther,  an'  may  th'  divvle 
go  with  it.  'Twill  be  rest  f'r  that  little 
Tipp'rary  man  ;  f'r  th'  waves  was  r-runnin' 
low  an'  peaceful,  an'  th'  babby  have  sthopped 
eryin'. 

"  He  had  been  settin'  on  a  stool,  but  he 
come  over  to  me.  '  Th'  storm,'  says  I,  '  is 
over.  'Twas  wild  while  it  lasted,'  says  I. 
*  Ye  may  say  so,'  says  he.  *  Well,  please 
Gawd,'  says  I,  *  that  it  left  none  worse  off 
thin  us.'  '  It  blew  ill  f'r  some  an'  aise  f'r 
others,'  says  he.     *  Th'  babby  is  gone.' 

"  An'  so  it  was,  Jawn,  f'r  all  his  rockin' 
an'  singin'.  An'  in  th'  avnin'  they  hurried 
it  over  th'  side  into  th'  sea.  An'  th'  little 
man  see  thim  do  it." 


MAKING  A  CABINET. 

"  I  SUPPOSE,  Jawn,"  said  Mr.  Dooley, 
"  ye  do  be  afther  a  governmint  job.  Is  it 
council  to  Athlone  or  what,  I  dinnaw?" 

"  I  haven't  picked  out  the  place  yet," 
said  Mr.  McKenna.  "  Bill  wrote  me  the 
day  after  election  about  it.  He  says :  '  John,' 
he  says,  *  take  anything  you  want  that's  not 
nailed  to  the  wall,'  he  says.  He  heard  of 
my  good  work  in  the  Twenty-ninth.  We 
rolled  up  eight  votes  in  Carey's  precinct, 
and  had  five  of  them  counted ;  and  that's 
more  of  a  miracle  than  carrying  New  York 
by  three  hundred  thousand." 

"  It  is  so,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "  It  is  f 'r 
a  fact.  Ye  must  've  give  the  clerks  an' 
judges  morphine,  an'  ye  desarve  great  credit. 
Ye  ought  to  have  a  place ;  an'  1  think  ye'll 
get  wan,  if  there's  enough  to  go  round 
among  th'  Irish  Ray  publicans.  'Tis  curi- 
ous what  an  effect  an  iliction  has  on  th'  Irish 
Raypublican  vote.  In  October  an  Irish 
Raypublican's  so  rare  people  point  him  out 


144         MAKING  A  CABINET 

on  th'  sthreet,  an'  women  carry  their  babies 
to  see  him.  But  th'  day  afther  iliction,  glory 
be,  ye  run  into  thim  ivrywhere, —  on  th' 
sthreet-car,  in  the  sthreet,  in  saloons  princi- 
pally, an'  at  th'  meetin's  iv  th'  Raypublican 
Comity.  I've  seen  as  manny  iv  them  as 
twinty  in  here  to-day,  an'  ivry  wan  iv  thim 
fit  to  run  anny  job  in  th'  governmint,  fr'm 
directin'  th'  Departmint  iv  State  to  carryin* 
ashes  out  an'  dumpin  thim  in  th'  white  lot. 

"  They  can't  all  have  jobs,  but  they've 
got  to  be  attinded  to  first ;  an',  whin  Mack's 
got  through  with  thim,  he  can  turn  in  an' 
make  up  that  cabinet  iv  his.  Thin  he'll 
have  throuble  iv  his  own,  th'  poor  man,  on'y 
comin'  into  fifty  thousand  a  year  and  rint  free. 
If 'twas  wan  iv  th'  customs  iv  th'  great  ray- 
public  iv  ours,  Jawn,  f'r  to  appoint  th'  most 
competent  men  f'r  th'  places,  he'd  have  a 
mighty  small  lot  f'r  to  pick  fr'm.  But,  seein' 
that  on'y  thim  is  iligible  that  are  unfit,  he  has 
th'  divvle's  own  time  selectin'.  F  'r  Sicrety 
iv  State,  if  he  follows  all  iv  what  Casey  calls 
recent  precidints,  he's   Hmited   to  ayether  a 


MAKING  A  CABINET        145 

jack-leg  counthry  lawyer,  that  has  set  around 
Washington  f'r  twinty  years,  pickin'  up  a 
dollar  or  two  be  runnin'  errands  f'r  a  foreign 
imbassy,  or  a  judge  that  doesn't  know 
whether  th'  city  of  Booloogne-sure-Mere, 
where  Tynan  was  pinched,  is  in  Boolgahria 
or  th'  County  Cavan.  F  'r  Sicrety  iv  th' 
Threasury  he  has  a  choice  iv  three  kinds  iv 
proud  and  incompetent  fi-nanceers.  He  can 
ayether  take  a  bank  prisident,  that  '11  see 
that  his  little  bank  an'  its  frinds  doesn't  get 
th*  worst  iv  it,  or  a  man  that  cudden't  main- 
tain th'  par'ty  iv  a  counthry  dhry-good  store 
long  enough  to  stand  off  th'  sheriff,  or  a 
broken-down  Congressman,  that  is  full  iv  red 
liquor  half  the  year,  an'  has  remorse  settin' 
on  his  chest  th'  other  half. 

"  On'y  wan  class  is  iligible  f'r  Attorney- 
gin'ral.  To  fill  that  job,  a  man's  got  to  be 
a  first-class  thrust  lawyer.  If  he  ain't,  th' 
Lord  knows  what  '11  happen.  Be  mistake  he 
might  prosecute  a  thrust  some  day,  an'  th* 
whole  counthry'll  be  rooned.  He  must  be 
a  man  competint  f'r  to  avoid  such  pitfalls 


146         MAKING  A  CABINET 

an'  snares,  so  'tis  th*  rule  f'r  to  have  him 
hang  on  to  his  job  with  th'  thrust  afther  he 
gets  to  Washington.  This  keeps  him  in 
touch  with   th'   business  intherests. 

"  F'r  Sicrety  iv  War,  th'  most  Hke  wan  is 
some  good  prisident  iv  a  sthreet-car  com- 
pany. 'Tis  exthraordinney  how  a  man  learns 
to  manage  military  affairs  be  auditin'  thrip 
sheets  an'  rentin'  signs  in  a  sthreet-car  to 
chewin'  gum  imporyums.  If  Gin'ral  Wash- 
ington iv  sacred  mimory  'd  been  under  a 
good  sthreet-car  Sicrety  iv  War,  he'd  've  wore 
a  bell  punch  to  ring  up  ivry  time  he  killed 
3.  Hessian.  He  wud  so,  an'  they'd  've  kep' 
tab  on  him,  an',  if  he  thried  to  wurruk  a 
brother-in-law  on  thim,  they'd  give  him  his 
time. 

"  F'r  th'  Navy  Departmint  ye  want  a 
Southern  Congressman  fr'ni  th'  cotton  belt. 
A  man  that  iver  see  salt  wather  outside  iv 
a  pork  bar'l  'd  be  disqualified  f'r  th'  place. 
He  must  live  so  far  fr'm  th'  sea  that  he 
don't  know  a  capstan  bar  fr'm  a  sheet 
anchor.      That    puts    him    in     th'     proper 


MAKING  A  CABINET        147 

position  to  inspect  armor  plate  f 'r  th'  immi- 
nent Carnegie,  an'  insthruct  admirals  that's 
been  cruisin'  an'  ^ghtin'  an'  dhrinkin'  mint 
juleps  f'r  thirty  years.  He  must  know  th* 
difference  bechune  silo  an'  insilage,  how  to 
wean  a  bull  calf,  an'  th'  best  way  to  cure 
a  spavin.  If  he  has  that  information,  he  is 
fixed  f'r  th'  job. 

"  Whin  he  wants  a  good  Postmaster-gin- 
'ral,  take  ye'er  ol'  law  partner  f'r  awhile, 
an',  be  th'  time  he's  larned  to  stick  stamps, 
hist  him  out,  an'  put  in  a  school-teacher  fr'm 
a  part  iv  th  counthry  where  people  commu- 
nicate with  each  other  through  a  conch. 
Th'  Sicrety  iv  th'  Interior  is  an  important 
man.  If  possible,  he  ought  to  come  fr'm 
Maine  or  Florida.  At  anny  rate,  he  must 
be  a  resident  iv  an  Atlantic  seacoast  town, 
an'  niver  been  west  iv  Cohoes.  If  he  gets 
th'  idee  there  are  anny  white  people  in  Ann 
Arbor  or  Columbus,  he  loses  his  job. 

"Th'  last  place  on  th'  list  is  Sicrety  iv 
Agriculture.  A  good,  lively  business  man 
that  was  born  in  th'  First  Ward  an'  moved  to 


148         MAKING  A  Cx^BINET 

th'  Twinty-foorth  after  th'  fire  is  best  suited 
to  this  office.  Thin  he'll  have  no  preju- 
dices against  sindin'  a  farmer  cactus  seeds 
whin  he's  on'y  lookin'  f 'r  wheat,  an'  he  will 
have  a  proper  understandin'  iv  th'  impor- 
tance iv  an'  early  Agricultural  Bureau  ray- 
port  to  th'   bucket-shops, 

"  No  Prisident  can  go  far  away  that  fol- 
lows Cleveland's  cabinet  appintmints,  al- 
though it  may  be  hard  f 'r  Mack,  bein'  new 
at  th'  business,  to  select  th'  right  man  f'r  th' 
v/rong  place.  But  I'm  sure  he'll  be  advised 
be  his  frinds,  an'  fr'm  th'  lists  iv  candydates 
I've  seen  he'll  have  no  throuble  in  findin' 
timber." 


OLD    AGE. 

"  Skatin',"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "was  in- 
dnded  f'r  th'  young  an'  gay.  'Tis  not  f'r 
th'  likes  iv  me,  now  that  age  has  crept  into 
me  bones  an'  whitened  th'  head  iv  me. 
Divvle  take  th'  rheumatics  !  An'  to  think 
iv  me  twinty  years  ago  cuttin'  capers  Hke  a 
bally  dancer,  whin  th'  Desplaines  backed  up 
an'  th'  pee-raires  was  covered  with  ice  fr'm 
th'  mills  to  Riverside.  Manny's  th'  time  I 
done  th'  thrick,  Jawn,  me  an'  th'  others; 
but  now  I  break  me  back  broachin'  a  kag  iv 
beer,  an'  th'  height  iv  me  daily  exercise  is  to 
wind  th'  clock  befure  turnin'  in,  an'  count  up 
th'  cash." 

"You  haven't  been  trying  to  skate  ? " 
Mr.  McKenna  asked  in  tones  of  alarm. 

"  Not  me,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "  Not  me, 
but  Hinnissy  have.  Hinnissy,  th'  gay 
young  man ;  Hinnissy,  th'  high-hearted, 
divvle -may-care  sphread  -  th'- light, —  Hin- 
nissy's  been  skatin'  again.  May  th'  Lord 
give  that  man  sinse  befure  he  dies  !     An'  he 


I50  OLD  AGE 

needs  it  right  away.  He  ain't  got  long  to 
live,  if  me  cousin,  Misther  Justice  Dooley, 
don't  appoint  a  garjeen  f 'r  him. 

"  I  had  no  more  thought  whin  I  wint 
over  with  him  that  th'  silly  goat  'd  thry  his 
pranks  thin  I  have  iv  flyin'  over  this  here 
bar  mesilf.  Hinnissy  is  —  let  me  see  how 
ol'  Hinnissy  is.  He  was  a  good  foot  taller 
thin  me  th'  St.  John's  night  whin  th'  comet 
was  in  th'  sky.  Let  me  see,  let  me  see! 
Jawn  Dorgan  was  marrid  to  th'  widdy 
Casey  (her  that  was  Dora  O'Brien)  in  th' 
spring  iv  fifty-two,  an'  Mike  Callahan  wint  to 
Austhreelia  in  th'  winter  iv  sixty.  Hinnissy's 
oldest  brother  was  too  old  to  inlist  in  th' 
army.  Six  an'  thirty  is  thirty-six.  Twict 
thirty-six  is  sivinty-two,  less  eight  is  sixty- 
four,  an'  nine,  carry  wan, —  let  me  see. 
Well,  Hinnissy  is  ol'  enough  to  know 
betther. 

"  We  wint  to  th'  pond  together,  an'  passed 
th'  time  iv  day  with  our  frinds  an'  watched 
th'  boys  an'  girls  playin'  shinny  an'  sky- 
larkin'  hand  in  hand.     They  come  separate, 


OLD  AGE  151 

Jawn ;  but  they  go  home  together,  thim 
young  wans.  I  see  be  his  face  Spoort  Hin- 
nissy  was  growin'  excited.  '  Sure,'  says  he, 
'there's  nawthin'  like  it,'  he  says.  *  Martin,' 
he  says,  *  I'll  challenge  ye  to  race,'  he  says. 
*So  ye  will,'  says  I.  'So  ye  will,'  I  says. 
'Will  ye  do  it?'  says  he.  '  Hinnissy,'  says 
I, 'come  home,'  I  says,  '  an'  don't  disgrace 
ye'er  gray  hairs  beflire  th'  whole  parish,' 
says  I.  'I'll  have  ye  to  know,'  says  he, 
*  that  'tis  not  long  since  I  cud  cut  a  double 
eight  with  anny  wan  in  Bridgeport,'  he  says. 
"  At  that  Tom  Gallagher's  young  fly-be- 
night joined  in  ;  an'  says  he,  '  Misther  Hin- 
nissy,' he  says,  'if  ye'll  go  on,'  he  says,  '  I'll 
fetch  ye  a  pair  iv  skates.'  '  Bring  thim 
along,'  says  Hinnissy.  An'  he  put  thim  on. 
Well,  Jawn,  he  sthud  up  an'  made  wan  step, 
an'  wan  iv  his  feet  wint  that  way  an'  wan 
this ;  an'  he  thrun  his  hands  in  th'  air,  an* 
come  down  on  his  back.  I  give  him  th' 
merry  laugh.  He  wint  clear  daft,  an'  thried 
to  sthruggle  to  his  feet ;  an',  th'  more  he 
thried,  th'  more  th'  skates  wint  fr'm  undher 


152  OLD  AGE 

him,  till  he  looked  f 'r  all  th'  wurruld  like 
wan  iv  thim  little  squirrels  that  goes  roun' 
on  th'  wheel  in  Schneider's  burrud  store. 

"  Gallagher's  lad  picked  him  up  an'  sthud 
him  on  his  feet ;  an'  says  he,  poHtely,  '  Come 
on,'  he  says,  'go  roun'  with  me.'  Mind  ye, 
he  took  him  out  to  th'  middle  iv  th'  pond, 
Hinnissy  movin'  like  a  bridge  horse  on  a 
slippery  thrack ;  an'  th'  lad  shook  him  off, 
an'  skated  away.  '  Come  back  ! '  says  Hin- 
nissy. 'Come  back  !' he  says.  'Tom,  I'll 
flay  ye  alive  whin  I  catch  ye  on  th'  sthreet ! 
Come  here,  like  a  good  boy,  an'  help  me  off. 
Dooley,'  he  roars  to  me,  '  ain't  ye  goin'  to 
do  annything  ? '  he  says.  '  Ne'er  a  thing,' 
says  I,  '  but  go  home.'  '  But  how'm  I 
goin'  to  cross?'  he  says.  'Go  down  on 
ye'er  knees  an'  crawl,'  says  I.  '  Foolish 
man  ! '  I  says.  An'  he  done  it,  Jawn.  It 
took  him  tin  minyits  to  get  down  in  sections, 
but  he  done  it.  An'  I  sthud  there,  an' 
waited  f'r  him  while  he  crawled  wan  block 
over  th'  ice,  mutterin'  prayers  at  ivry  fut. 

"  I   wint  home  with  him  aftherwards ;  an' 


OLD  AGE  153 

what  d'ye  think  he  said  ?  '  Martin,'  says  he, 
'I've  been  a  sinful  man  in  me  time;  but  I 
niver  had  th'  Hke  iv  that  f'r  a  pinance,'  he 
says.  '  Think  iv  doin'  th'  stations  iv  th' 
cross  on  th'  ice,'  he  says.  '  Hinnissy,'  I 
•says,  '  they'se  no  crime  in  th'  catalogue  akel 
to  bein'  old,'  I  says.  '  Th'  nearest  thing  to 
it,'  I  says,  '  is  bein'  a  fool,'  I  says ;  '  an'  ye're 
both,'  I  says." 


THE    DIVIDED    SKIRT. 

"  Jawn,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "did  ye  iver 
hear  th'  puzzle  whin  a  woman's  not  a 
woman  ?  " 

"  Faith,  I  have,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 
"  When  I  was  a  kid,  I  knew  the  answer." 

"Ye  didn't  know  this  answer,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley.  "  Whin  is  a  woman  not  a  woman  ? 
'Twas  give  to  me  las'  Satthurdah  night  be 
young  Callaghan,  th'  sthreet-car  man  that 
have  all  th'  latest  jokes  that  does  be  out. 
Whin  is  a  woman  not  a  woman  ?  mind  ye. 
Whin's  she's  on  a  bicycle,  by  dad.  Yes, 
yes.  Whin  she's  on  a  bicycle,  Jawn.  D'ye 
know  Molly  Donahue?" 

"  I  know  her  father,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  Well,  well,  the  dacint  man  sint  his 
daughter  Molly  to  have  a  convint  schoolin'; 
an'  she  larned  to  pass  th'  butther  in  Frinch 
an'  to  paint  all  th'  chiny  dishes  in  th'  cubb'rd, 
so  that,  whin  Donahue  come  home  wan  night 
an'  et  his  supper,  he  ate  a  green  paint  ha-arp 
along  with    his  cabbage,  an'  they  had  to  sind 


THE  DIVIDED  SKIRT        155 

f  r  Docthor  Hinnissy  f'r  to  pump  th'  a-art 
work  out  iv  him.  So  they  did.  But  Dona- 
hue, bein*  a  quite  man,  niver  minded  that, 
but  let  her  go  on  with  her  do-se-does  an' 
bought  her  a  bicycle.  All  th'  bicycles  th' 
poor  man  had  himsilf  whin  he  was  her  age 
was  th'  dhray  he  used  to  dhrive  f'r  Comis- 
key  ;  but  he  says,  '  'Tis  all  th'  thing,'  he  says. 
'  Let  th'  poor  child  go  her  way,'  he  says  to 
his  wife,  he  says.  '  Honoria,'  he  says,  *^  she'll 
get  over  it.' 

"  No  wan  knowed  she  had  th'  bicycle,  be- 
cause she  wint  out  afther  dark  an'  practised 
on  it  down  be  th'  dump.  But  las'  Friday 
evnin',  lo  an'  behold,  whin  th'  r-road  was 
crowded  with  people  fr'm  th'  brick-yards  an' 
th*  gas-house  an'  th'  mills,  who  shud  come 
ridin'  along  be  th'  thracks,  bumpin'  an' 
holdin'  on,  but  Molly  Donahue  ?  An' 
dhressed !  How  d'ye  suppose  she  was 
dhressed  ?  In  pa-ants,  Jawn  avick.  In 
pa-ants.  Oh,  th'  shame  iv  it !  Ivry  wan  on 
th'  sthreet  stopped  f'r  to  yell.  Little  Julia 
Dorgan    called    out,    '  Who    stole     Molly's 


156         THE  DIVIDED  SKIRT 

dhress  ? '  Ol'  man  Murphy  was  settin' 
asleep  on  his  stoop.  He  heerd  th'  noise,  an' 
woke  up  an'  set  his  bull  tarrier  Lydia  Pink- 
ham  on  her.  Malachi  Dorsey,  vice-prisi- 
dent  iv  th'  St.  Aloysius  Society,  was  comin' 
out  iv  th'  German's,  an'  see  her.  He  put 
his  hands  to  his  face,  an'  wint  back  to  th' 
house. 

"  But  she  wint  bumpin'  on,  Jawn,  till  she 
come  up  be  th'  house.  Father  Kelly  was 
standin'  out  in  front,  an'  ol'  man  Donahue 
was  layin'  down  th'  law  to  him  about  th' 
tariff,  whin  along  come  th'  poor  foolish  girl 
with  all  th'  kids  in  Bridgeport  afther  her. 
Donahue  turned  white.  '  Say  a  pather  an' 
avy  quick,'  he  says  to  the  priest.  Thin  he 
called  out  to  his  wife.  '  Honoria,'  he  says, 
'  bring  a  bar'l,'  he  says.  '  Molly  has  come 
away  without  annything  on,'  he  says,  '  but 
Sarsfield's  pa-ants.'  Thin  he  turned  on  his 
daughter.  '  May  th'  Lord  forgive  ye, 
Molly  Donahue,'  he  says,  '  this  night ! '  he 
says.  '  Child,  where  is  ye'er  dhress  ? ' 
'Tut,  tut! '  says  th'  good  man.     '  Molly,'  he 


THE  DIVIDED  SKIRT         157 

says,  '  ye  look  well  on  that  there  bicycle/  he 
says.  '  But  'tis  th'  first  time  I  ever  knowed 
ye  was  bow-legged,'  he  says,  says  th'  sog- 
garth  aroon. 

"  Well,  sir,  she  wint  into  th'  house  as  if 
she'd  been  shot  fr'm  a  gun,  an'  th'  nex' 
mornin'  I  see  Doheny's  express  wagon 
haulin'  th'  bicycle  away." 

"  Didn't  Father  Kelly  do  anything  about 
it,?"  asked   Mr.  McKenna. 

"  No,"  replied  Mr.  Dooley.  "  There  was 
some  expicted  she'd  be  read  fr'm  th'  altar  at 
high  mass,  but  she  wasn't." 


A    BIT    OF    HISTORY. 

Mr.  McKenna  found  Mr.  Dooley  stand- 
ing at  the  end  of  his  bargain  counter  with 
the  glasses  on  the  tip  of  his  nose.  He  was 
in  deep  contemplation  of  a  pile  of  green 
paper  which  he  was  thumbing  over. 

"Jaw^n,"  said  he,  as  Mr.  McKenna  walked 
over  and  looked  on  curiously,  "  d'ye  know 
a  good  man  that  I  cud  thrust  to  remodel  th' 
shop  ?  " 

"And  what's  got  into  you?"  asked  Mr. 
McKenna. 

"  I'm  goin'  to  have  two  large  mirrors  put 
on  th'  side  an'  wan  below.  Thin  I'm  goin' 
to  have  th'  ceilin'  painted  green,  an'  a  bull- 
yard  table  put  in  th'  back  room.  'Twill  be 
a  place  to  par'lyze  ye  whin  it  is  through 
with." 

"And  what  '11  pay  for  it?"  asked  Mr. 
McKenPxa,  in   blank  amazement. 

"  This,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  whacking  the 
pile  before  him.  "  Here's  twinty  thousand 
dollars  iv  th'    bonds  Iv  th'  raypublic.     They 


A  BIT  OF  HISTORY  159 

bear  inthrest  at  twinty-five  per  cint.  ;  an' 
they're  signed  be  Xavier  O'Malley,  Pagan 
O'Leary  (th'  wicked  man),  an'  O'Brien,  th' 
threeasurer.  Me  cousin  Mike  put  thim  up 
with  me  f  r  a  loan  iv  five.  He  wurruked  in 
th'  threeasurer's  office ;  an',  whin  th'  poHs 
broke  up  th'  Irish  ri volution,  he  put  on  his 
coat  an'  stuck  a  month's  bond  issue  in  his 
pocket.  '  They'll  come  in  handy  wan  day,' 
he  says  ;  for  he  was  a  philosopher,  if  he  did 
take  a  dhrop  too  much.  Whin  he  give  me 
th'  bonds,  he  says,  says  he,  '  Hoi'  to  thim,' 
he  says,  '  an'  some  time  or  other  they'll 
make  a  rich  man  iv  ye.'  Jawn,  I  feel  th' 
time  has  come.  Cleveland's  on  th'  rampage  ; 
an',  if  Ireland  ain't  a  raypublic  befure  a 
month,  I'll  give  ye  these  here  documents  f 'r 
what  I  paid  on  thim.  I  have  me  informa- 
tion fr'm  Hinnissy,  an'  Hinnissy  Jiave  it 
fr'm  Willum  Joyce,  an'  ye  know  how  close 
Joyce  is  to  Finerty.  Hinnissy  was  in  last 
night.  *  Well,'  says  I,  *  what's  th'  news?'  I 
says.  'News?'  says  he.  'They'se  on'y 
wan  thing  talked   about,'    he   says.     '  We're 


i6o  A  BIT  OF  HISTORY 

goin'  to  have  a  war  with  England,'  he  says. 
*An'  th'  whole  Irish  army  has  inlisted,'  he 
says.  ^  Has  Finerty  gone  in  ? '  says  I.  *  He 
has,'  he  says.  'Thin,'  says  I, ''tis  all  ofF 
with  th'  Sassenach.  We'll  run  thim  fr'm  th' 
face  iv  th'  earth,'  I  says.  ' 'Tis  th'  prisint 
intintion  iv  mesilf  to  hire  a  good  big  tug 
an*  put  a  hook  into  Ireland,  an'  tow  it  over 
th'  big  dhrink,  an'  anchor  it  ayether  in  th' 
harbor  iv  New  York  or  in  th'  lake. 

"  D'ye  know,  Jawn,  'twas  Cleveland  that 
definded  th'  Fenians  whin  they  was  took 
up  f'r  invadin'  Canada.  'Twas  so.  He 
.was  not  much  in  thim  days, —  a  kid  iv  a 
lawyer,  like  Doheny's  youngest,  with  a  lot 
iv  hair  an'  a  long  coat  an'  a  hungry  look. 
Whin  th'  Fenians  come  back  fr'm  Canada 
in  a  boat  an'  landed  in  th'  city  iv  Buf-falo, 
New  York,  they  was  all  run  in  ;  an'  sare  a 
lawyer  cud  they  get  to  defind  thim  till  this 
here  Cleveland  come  up,  an'  says  he  :  'I'll 
take  th' job,'  he  says.  '  I'll  go  in  an'  do  th' 
best  I  can  fr  ye.'  Me  uncle  Mike  was 
along  with   thim,  an'   he  looked   Cleveland 


A  BIT  OF  HISTORY  i6i 

over;  an'  says  he:  ^  Ye'll  do  th'  best  ye  can 
f 'r  us,'  he  says,  '  will  ye  ?  '  he  says.  *  Well,' 
he  says,  '  I'll  take  no  chances,'  he  says. 
'  Sind  f 'r  th'  desk  sergeant,'  he  says.  '  I'm 
goin'  to  plead  guilty  an'  turn  informer,'  he 
says.  'Tis  lucky  f'r  Cleveland  me  uncle 
died  befure  he  r-run  f'r  President.  He'd  've 
had  wan  vote  less. 

"  I'll  niver  forget  th'  night  me  uncle 
Mike  come  back  fr'm  Canada.  Ye  know 
he  was  wan  iv  th'  most  des'prit  Fenians  that 
iver  lived ;  an',  whin  th'  movement  begun, 
he  had  to  thread  on  no  wan's  shadow  befure 
he  was  off  f'r  th'  battle.  Ivry  wan  in  town 
knew  he  was  goin' ;  an'  he  wint  away  with  a 
thrunk  full  iv  bottles  an'  all  th'  good  wishes 
iv  th'  neighborhood,  more  be  reason  iv  th' 
fact  that  he  was  a  boistherous  man  whin  he 
was  th'  worse  f'r  wear,  with  a  bad  habit  iv 
throwin'  bricks  through  his  neighbors' 
windys.  We  cud  see  him  as  th'  thrain 
moved  out,  walkin'  up  an*  down  th'  aisle, 
askin'  iv  there  was  anny  Englishman  in  th' 
car  that  'd  like  to  go  out  on  th'  platform  an' 
rowl  off  with  him. 


i62  A  BIT  OF  HISTORY 

"  Well,  he  got  up  in  New  York  an'  met  a 
lot  iv  other  des'prite  men  like  himsllf,  an' 
they  wint  across  th'  bordher  singin'  songs 
an'  carryin'  on,  an'  all  th'  militia  iv  New 
York  was  undher  ar-rms  ;  f 'r  it  'd  been  just 
like  thim  to  turn  round  an'  do  their  fightin' 
in  New  York.  'Twas  little  me  uncle  Mike 
cared  where  he  fougiU. 

"  But,  be  hook  or  crook,  they  got  to 
where  th'  other  Fenians  was,  an'  jined  th' 
army.  They  come  fr'm  far  an*  near ;  an' 
they  were  young  an'  old,  poor  lads,  some 
iv  thim  bent  on  sthrikin'  th'  blow  that  'd 
break  th'  back  iv  British  tyranny  an'  some 
jus'  crazed  f 'r  fightin'.  They  had  big  guns 
an'  little  guns  an'  soord  canes  an'  pitchforks 
an'  scythes,  an'  wan  or  two  men  had  come 
over  armed  with  baseball  bats.  They  had 
more  gin'rals  thin  ye  cud  find  in  a  Raypubli- 
can  West  Town  convintion,  an'  ivry  private 
was  at  laste  a  colonel.  They  made  me 
uncle  Mike  a  brigadier  gin'ral.  '  That'll  do 
f'r  a  time,'  says  he;  'but,  whin  th'  fun 
begins,  I'll  pull  Dorney  off  his  horse,  an'  be 


A  BIT  OF  HISTORY  163 

a  major  gin'ral,'  he  says.     An'  he'd  've  done 
it,  too,  on'y  they  was  no  fightin'. 

"  They  marched  on,  an'  th'  British  run 
away  fr'm  thim  ;  an',  be  hivins,  me  uncle  Mike 
cud  niver  get  a  shot  at  a  redcoat,  though  he 
searched  high  an'  low  f 'r  wan.  Thin  a  big 
rain-storm  come,  an'  they  was  no  tents  to 
protect  thim  ;  an'  they  set  aroun',  shiverin' 
an'  swearin'.  Me  uncle  Mike  was  a  bit  iv 
a  politician  ;  an'  he  organized  a  meetin'  iv  th' 
lads  that  had  come  over  with  him,  an'  sint 
a  comity  to  wait  on  th'  major  gin'ral. 
'  Dorney,'  says  me  uncle  Mike,  f 'r  he  was 
chairman  iv  th'  comity,  '  Dorney,'  he  says, 
*  me  an'  me  associated  warriors  wants  to 
know,'  he  says.  'What  d'ye  mane? 'says 
Dorney.  '  Ye  brought  us  up  here,'  says 
me  uncle  Mike,  '  to  fight  the  British,'  he 
says.  'If  ye  think,'  he  says,  'that  we 
come  over,'  he  says,  '  to  engage  in  a  six 
days'  go-as-you-please  walkin'  match,'  he 
says,  '  ye'd  betther  go  an'  have  ye'er  head 
looked  into,'  he  says.  '  Have  ye  anny  Brit- 
ish around  here  ?     Have  ye  e'er  a  Sassenach 


i64  A  BIT  OF  HISTORY 

concealed  about  ye'er  clothes  ? '  he  says.  '  We 
can't  do  annything  if  they  won't  stand  f'r  us,' 
says  Dorney.  '  Thin,'  says  me  uncle  Mike, 
*  I  wash  me  hands  iv  th'  whole  invasion,*  he 
says.  '  I'll  throuble  ye  fr  me  voucher,'  he 
says.  '  I'm  goin  back  to  a  counthry  where 
they  grow  men  that  '11  stand  up  an'  fight 
back,'  he  says ;  an'  he  an'  his  la-ads  wint  over 
to  Buf-falo,  an'  was  locked  up  fr  rivolution. 
"  Me  uncle  Mike  come  home  on  th' 
bumpers  iv  a  freight  car,  which  is  th'  way 
most  rivolutioners  come  home,  excipt  thim 
that  comes  home  in  th'  baggage  car  in  crates. 
'Uncle  Mike,'  says  1  to  him,  *  what's  war 
like,  annyhow  ? '  '  Well,'  says  he,  '  in  some 
rayspicts  it  is  like  missin'  th'  last  car,'  he 
says;  'an'  in  other  ravspicts  'tis  like  gettin* 
gay  in  front  iv  a  polls  station,'  he  says.  An  , 
by  dad,  whin  I  come  to  think  what  they  call 
wars  nowadays,  I  believe  me  uncle  Mike 
was  right.  'Twas  different  whin  I  was  a 
lad.  They  had  wars  in  thim  days  that  was 
wars." 


THE    RULING   CLASS. 

"  I  SEE  be  th'  pa-apers,"  said  Mr.  Dooley, 
"  that  arnychy's  torch  do  be  Hfted,  an'  what 
it  means  I  dinnaw ;  but  this  here  I  know, 
Jawn,  that  all  arnychists  is  inimies  iv  govern- 
mint,  an'  all  iv  thim  ought  to  be  hung  f'r 
th'  first  offence  an'  bathed  f'r  th'  second. 
Who  are  they,  an-nyhow,  but  foreigners,  an' 
what  right  have  they  to  be  holdin'  torchlight 
procissions  in  this  land  iv  th'  free  an'  home 
iv  th'  brave?  Did  ye  iver  see  an  American 
or  an  Irishman  an  arnychist?  No,  an'  ye 
niver  will.  Whin  an  Irishman  thinks  th' 
way  iv  thim  la-ads,  he  goes  on  th'  polls  force 
an'  dhraws  his  eighty-three-thirty-three  f'r 
throwin'  lodgin'-house  bums  into  th'  pathrol 
wagon.      An'  there  ye  a-are. 

"1  niver  knowed  but  th'  wan  arnychist, 
an'  he  was  th'  divvle  an'  all  f'r  slaughtherin' 
th'  rich.  He  was  a  Boolgahrian  man  that 
lived  down  be  Cologne  Sthreet,  acrost  th' 
river ;  but  he  come  over  to  Bridgeport  whin 
he  did  have  his  skates  on  him,  f'r  th'  liftenant 


i66         THE  RULING  CLASS 

over  there  was  again  arnychists,  an'  'twas, 
little  our  own  Jawnny  Shea  cared  f'r  thim 
so  long  as  they  didn't  bother  him.  Well, 
sir,  this  here  man's  name  was  Owsky  or 
something  iv  that  sort,  but  I  always  called 
him  Casey  be  way  iv  a  joke.  He  had 
whiskers  on  him  like  thim  on  a  cokynut,  an' 
I  heerd  he  swore  an  oath  niver  to  get  shaved 
till  he  killed  a  man  that  wore  a  stove-pipe 
hat. 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,  Jawn,  he  was  a  most 
ferocious  man.  Manny's  th'  time  I've  heerd 
him  lecture  to  little  Matt  Doolan  asleep  like 
a  loo-  behind  th'  stove.  '  What  a-are  we 
comin'  to?'  he'd  say.  'What  a-are  we 
comin'  to?'  D'ye  mind,  Jawn,  that's  th' 
way  he  always  began.  '  Th'  poor  do  be 
gettin'  richer,'  says  he,  '  an'  th'  rich  poorer,' 
says  he.  '  Th'  governmint,'  says  he,  '  is  in 
th'  hands  iv  th'  monno-polists,'  he  says,  '  an' 
they're  crushin'  th'  life  out  iv  th'  prolo- 
toorios.'  A  prolotoorio,  Jawn,  is  th'  same 
thing  as  a  hobo.  '  Look  at  th'  Willum 
Haitch  Vanderbilts,'   says  he,  'an'  th'  Gools 


THE  RULING  CLASS         167 

an'  th'  Astors,'  says  he,  'an'  thin  look  at 
us,'  he  says,  'groun'  down,'  he  says,  'till 
we  cries  f'r  bread  on  th'  sthreet,'  he  says; 
'  an'  they  give  us  a  stone,'  he  says.  '  Dooley,' 
he  says,  '  fetch  in  a  tub  iv  beer,  an'  lave  th' 
collar  off,'  he  says. 

"  Doolan  'd  wake  up  with  a  start,  an'  ap- 
plaud at  that.  He  was  a  little  tailor-man 
that  wurruked  in  a  panthry  down  town,  an' 
I  seen  him  weep  whin  a  dog  was  r-run  over 
be  a  dhray.  Thin  Casey  'd  call  on  Doolan  fr 
to  stand  his  ground  an'  desthroy  th'  polis, — 
'  th'  onions  iv  th'  monno-polists,'  he  called 
thim, —  an'  Doolan  'd  say,  '  Hear,  hear,' 
till  I  thrun  thim  both  out. 

"  I  thought  me  frind  Casey  'd  be  taken  up 
f'r  histin'  a  polisman  f'r  sure,  though,  to  be 
fair  with  him,  I  niver  knowed  him  to  do  but 
wan  arnychist  thing,  and  that  v>'as  to  make 
faces  at  Willum  Joyce  because  he  lived  in 
a  two-story  an'  bay-window  brick  house. 
Doolan  said  that  was  goin'  too  far,  because 
Willum  Joyce  usually  had  th'  price.  Wan 
day  Casey  disappeared,  an'   I   heerd   he  was 


i68         THE  RULING  CLASS 

married.  He  niver  showed  up  f'r  a  year; 
an',  whin  he  come  in,  I  hardly  knowed  him. 
His  whiskers  had  been  filed  an'  his  hair  cut, 
an'  he  was  dhressed  up  to  kill.  He  wint 
into  th'  back  room,  an'  Doolan  was  asleep 
there.  He  woke  him,  an'  made  a  speech  to 
him  that  was  flill  iv  slaughther  and  blood- 
shed. Pretty  soon  in  come  a  little  woman, 
with  a  shawl  over  her  head, —  a  little  Ger- 
man lady.  Says  she,  'Where's  me  hoos- 
band  ? '  in  a  German  brogue  ye  cud  cut  with 
an  ax.  '  I  don't  know  ye'er  husband, 
ma'am,'  says  L  '  What's  his  name  ? '  She 
told  me,  an'  I  seen  she  was  Casey's  wife. 
'  He's  in  there,'  I  says.  '  In  back,'  I  says, 
'  talking  to  Doolan,  th'  prolotoorio.'  I  wint 
back  with  her,  an'  there  was  Casey  whahn' 
away.  '  Ar-re  ye  men  or  ar-re  ye  slaves  ? ' 
he  says  to  Doolan.  '  Julius,'  says  his  wife, 
'  vat  ye  doin'  there,  ye  blackgaard,'  she  says. 
*  Comin'  ze,  or  be  hivens  I'll  break  ye'er 
jaw,'  she  says.  Well,  sir,  he  turned  white, 
an'  come  over  as  meek  as  a  lamb.  She 
grabbed  him  be  th'  arm  an'  led  him  off,  an' 
'twas  th'  last  I  seen  iv  him. 


THE  RULING  CLASS         169 

"Afther  a  while  Doolan  woke  up,  an'  says 
he,  *  Where's  me  frind?'  *  Gone,'  says  L 
'  His  wife  came  in,  an'  hooked  him  off.' 
'  Well,'  says  Doolan,  '  'tis  on'y  another  vic- 
thry  iv  the  rulin'  classes,'  he  says." 


THE    OPTIMIST. 

"  Aho,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  drawing  a  long, 
deep  breath.  "  Ah-ho,  glory  be  to  th' 
saints  !  " 

He  was  sitting  out  in  front  of  his  liquor 
shop  with  Mr.  McKenna,  their  chairs  tilted 
against  the  door-posts.  If  it  had  been  hot 
elsewhere,  what  had  it  been  in  Archey  Road  ? 
The  street-car  horses  reeled  in  the  dust  from 
the  tracks.  The  drivers,  leaning  over  the 
dash-boards,  flogged  the  brutes  with  the 
viciousness  of  weakness.  The  piles  of  coke 
in  the  gas-house  yards  sent  up  waves  of  heat 
like  smoke.  Even  the  little  girls  playing  on 
the  sidewalks  were  flaming  pink  in  color. 
But  the  night  saw  Archey  Road  out  in  all 
gayety,  its  flannel  shirt  open  at  the  breast 
to  the  cooling  blast  and  the  cries  of  its  chil- 
dren filling  the  air.  It  also  saw  Mr.  Dooley 
luxuriating  like  a  polar  bear,  and  bowing  cor- 
dially to  all  who  passed. 

"  Glory  be  to  th'  saints,"  he  said,  "  but 
it's  been  a  thryin'  five  days.     I've  been  mean 


THE  OPTIMIST  171 

enough  to  commit  murdher  without  th' 
strength  even  to  kill  a  fly,  I  expect  to 
have  a  fight  on  me  hands;  f'r  I've  insulted 
half  th'  road,  an'  th'  on'y  thing  that  saved 
me  was  that  no  wan  was  sthrong  enough  to 
come  over  th'  bar.  '  I  cud  lick  ye  f'r  that, 
if  it  was  not  so  hot,'  said  Dorsey,  whin  I 
told  him  I'd  change  no  bill  f'r  him.  'Ye 
cud  not,'  says  I,  'if  'twas  cooler,'  I  says. 
It's  cool  enough  f'r  him  now.  Look,  Jawn 
dear,  an'  see  if  there's  an  ice-pick  undher  me 
chair. 

"  It  'd  be  more  thin  th'  patience  iv  Job  'd 
stand  to  go  through  such  weather,  an'  be 
fit  f'r  society.  They's  on'y  wan  man  in  all 
th'  wurruld  cud  do  it,  an'  that  man's  littk 
Tim  Clancy.  He  wurruks  out  in  th'  mills, 
tin  hours  a  day,  runnin'  a  wheelbarrow 
loaded  with  cindhers.  He  lives  down  be- 
yant.  Wan  side  iv  his  house  is  up  again 
a  brewery,  an'  th'  other  touches  elbows  with 
Twinty-Percint  Murphy's  flats.  A  few  years 
back  they  found  out  that  he  didn't  own  on'y 
th'  front  half  iv  th'  lot,  an'  he  can  set  on  his 


172  THE  OPTIMIST 

back  stoop  an'  put  his  feet  over  th'  iince 
now.  He  can,  faith.  Whin  he's  indures, 
he  breathes  up  th'  chimbley ;  an'  he  has  a 
wife  an'  eight  kids.  He  dhraws  wan  twinty- 
five  a  day — whin  he  wurruks. 

"  He  come  in  here  th'  other  night  to  talk 
over  matthers ;  an'  I  was  stewin'  in  me  shirt, 
an*  sayin'  cross  things  to  all  th'  wurruld  fr'm 
th'  tail  iv  me  eye.  '  'Tis  hot,'  says  I.  '  'Tis 
war-rum,'  he  says.  '  'Tis  dam  hot,'  says  I. 
'  Well,'  he  says,  '  'tis  good  weather  f 'r  th' 
crops,'  he  says.  '  Things  grows  in  this 
weather.  I  mind  wanst,'  he  says,  '  we  had 
-days  just  like  these,  an'  we  raised  forty 
bushels  iv  oats  to  an  acre,'  he  says.  '  Whin 
Neville,  th'  landlord,  come  with  wagons  to 
take  it  off,  he  was  that  surprised  ye  cud  iv 
knocked  him  down  with  a  sthraw.  'Tis 
great  growin'  weather,'  he  says.  An',  Jawn, 
by  dad,  barrin'  where  th'  brewery  horse  spilt 
oats  on  th'  durestep  an'  th'  patches  iv  grass 
on  th'  dump,  sare  a  growin'  thing  but  chil- 
dher  has  that  little  man  seen  in  twinty  years. 

" 'Twas  hotter  whin  I  seen  him  nex',  an' 
I  said  so.     '  'Tis  war-rum,'  he  says,  laughin'. 


THE  OPTIMIST  173 

*  By  dad,  I  think  th'  ice  '11  break  up  in  th' 
river  befure  mornin','  he  says.  '  But  look 
how  cold  it  was  last  winter,'  he  says.  '  Th' 
crops  need  weather  like  this,'  he  says.  I'd 
like  to  have  hit  him  with  a  chair.  Sundah 
night  I  wint  over  to  see  him.  He  was  sit- 
tin'  out  in  front,  with  a  babby  on  each  knee. 

*  Good  avnin','  says  I.  'Good  avnin','  he 
says.  '  This  is  th'  divvle's  own  weather,'  I 
says.  '  I'm  suffocatin'.'  '  'Tis  quite  a  thaw,' 
he  says.  'How's  all  th'  folks?'  says  I. 
'  All  well,  thank  ye  kindly,'  he  says,  '  save 
an'  except  th'  wife  an'  little  Eleen,'  he  says. 
'  They're  not  so  well,'  he  says.  '  But  what 
can  ye  expect?  They've  had  th'  best  iv 
health  all  th'  year.'  '  It  must  be  har-rd 
wurrukin'  at  th'  mills  this  weather,'  I  says. 
'  'Tis  war-rum,'  he  says ;  '  but  ye  can't  look 
f'r  snow-storms  this  time  iv  th'  year,'  he 
says.  '  Thin,'  says  he,  '  me  mind's  taken 
aff  th'  heat  be  me  wurruk,'  he  says.  '  Dor- 
sey  that  had  th'  big  cinder-pile  —  the  wan 
near  th'  fence  —  was  sun-struck  Fridah,  an' 
I've  been  promoted  to  his  job.  'Tis  a 
most  re-sponsible  place,'  he  says  ;  '  an'  a  man, 


174  THE  OPTIMIST 

to  fill  it  rightly  an'  properly,  has  no  time  to 
think  f'r  th'  crops,'  he  says.  An'  1  wint 
away,  lavin'  him  singin'  *  On  th'  Three- 
tops  '  to  th'  kids  on  his  knees. 

"  Well,  he  comes  down  th'  road  tonight 
afther  th'  v/ind  had  turned,  with  his  old 
hat  on  th'  back  iv  his  head,  whistlin' 
'Th'  Rambler  fr'm  Clare'  and  I  stopped 
to  talk  with  him.  'Glory  be,'  says  I,  ''tis 
pleasant  to  breathe  th'  cool  air,'  says  I. 
'  Ah,'  he  says,  '  'tis  a  rale  good  avnin','  he 
says.  '  D'ye  know,'  he  says,  '  I  haven't 
slept  much  these  nights,  f'r  wan  reason  'r 
another.  But,'  he  says,  '  I'm  afraid  this 
here  change  won't  be  good  f'r  th'  crops,' 
he  says.  '  If  we'd  had  wan  or  two  more 
war-rum  days  an'  thin  a  sprinkle  iv  rain,' 
he  says,  '  how  they  would  grow,  how  they 
would  grow  ! '  " 

Mr.  Dooley  sat  up  in  his  chair,  and 
looked  over  at  Mr.  McKenna. 

"Jawn,"  he  said,  "d'ye  know  that,  whin 
I  think  iv  th'  thoughts  that's  been  in  my 
head  f  r  a  week,  I  don't  dare  to  look  Tim 
Clancy  in  th'  face." 


PROSPERITY. 

"  Th'  defeat  iv  Humanity  be  Prosperity 
was  wan  Iv  th'  raysults  iv  th'  iHction,"  said 
Mr.  Dooley. 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  McKenna,  gruffly. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "I  thought  it 
was  McKinley  an'  Hobart  that  won  out, 
but  I  see  now  that  it's  McKinley  an'  Pros- 
perity. If  Bryan  had  been  elected.  Human- 
ity would  have  had  a  front  seat  an'  a  tab. 
Th'  sufferin's  iv  all  th'  wurruld  would  have 
ended;  an'  Jawn  H.  Humanity  would  be  in 
th'  White  House,  throwin'  his  feet  over  th' 
furniture  an'  receivin'  th'  attintions  iv  dip- 
lomats an'  pleeniapotentiaries.  It  was  de- 
cided otherwise  be  th'  fates,  as  th'  Good  Book 
says.  Prosperity  is  th'  bucko  now.  Barrin* 
a  sthrike  at  th'  stock-yards  an'  a  hold-up 
here  an'  there,  Prosperity  has  come  leapin' 
in  as  if  it  had  jumped  fr'm  a  springboard. 
Th'  mills  are  opened,  th'  factories  are  goin' 
to  go,  th'  railroads  are  watherin'  stocks,  long 


176  PROSPERITY 

processions  iv  workin'men  are  marchln* 
fr'm  th'  pay-car  to  their  peaceful  saloons, 
their  wives  are  takin'  in  washin'  again,  th' 
price  iv  wheat  is  goin'  up  an'  down,  creditors 
are  beginnin'  to  sue  debtors  ;  an'  thus  all  th' 
wurruld  is  merry  with  th'  on'y  rational 
enjoyments  iv  life. 

"  An'  th'  stock  exchange  has  opened. 
That's  wan  iv  th'  strongest  signs  iv  pros- 
perity. I  min'  wanst  whin  me  frind  Mike 
McDonald  was  controllin'  th'  city,  an'  con- 
ductin'  an  exchange  down  be  Clark  Sthreet. 
Th'  game  had  been  goin'  hard  again  th' 
house.  They  hadn't  been  a  split  f'r  five 
deals.  Whin  ivrybody  was  on  th'  queen  to 
win,  with  th'  sivin  spot  coppered,  th'  queen 
won,  th'  sivin  spot  lost.  Wan  lad  amused 
himsilf  be  callin'  th'  turn  twinty-wan  times 
in  succession,  an'  th'  check  rack  was  down 
to  a  margin  iv  eleven  whites  an'  fifty-three 
cints  in  change.  Mike  looked  around  th' 
crowd,  an'  turned  down  th'  box.  *  Gintle- 
men,'  says  he,  '  th'  game  is  closed.  Busi- 
ness conditions  are  such,'   he  says,   '  that  I 


PROSPERITY  177 

will  not  be  able  to  cash  In  ye'er  checks,'  he 
says.  '  Please  go  out  softly,  so  's  not  to  dis- 
turb th'  gintlemen  at  th'  roulette  wheel,'  he 
says,  '  an'  come  back  afther  th'  iliction,  whin 
confidence  is  restored  an'  prosperity  returns 
to  th'  channels  iv  thrade  an'  industhry,'  he 
says.  '  Th'  exchange  '11  be  opened  promptly  ; 
an'  th'  usual  rule  iv  chips  f'r  money  an' 
money  f'r  chips,  fifty  on  cases  an'  sivinty- 
five  f'r  doubles,  a  hard-boiled  egg  an'  a 
dhrink  f'r  losers,  will  prevail,'  he  says. 
'  Return  with  th'  glad  tidings  iv  renewed 
commerce,  an'  thank  th'  Lord  I  haven't  took 
ye'er  clothes.'  His  was  th'  first  stock  ex- 
change we  had. 

"  Yes,  Prosperity  has  come  hollerin'  an 
screamin'.  To  read  th'  papers,  it  seems  to 
be  a  kind  iv  a  vagrancy  law.  No  wan  can 
loaf  anny  more.  Th'  end  iv  vacation  has 
gone  f'r  manny  a  happy  lad  that  has  spint 
six  months  ridin'  through  th'  counthry, 
dodgin'  wurruk,  or  loafin'  under  his  own  vine 
or  hat-three.  Prosperity  grabs  ivry  man 
be  th'  neck,  an'  sets  him  shovellin'   slag  or 


178  PROSPERITY 

coke  or  runnin'  up  an'  down  a  ladder  with 
a  hod  iv  mortar.  It  won't  let  th'  wurruld 
rest.  If  Humanity  'd  been  victoryous,  no 
wan  'd  iver  have  to  do  a  lick  again  to  th'  end 
iv  his  days.  But  Prosperity's  a  horse  iv 
another  color.  It  goes  round  like  a  polis- 
man  givin'  th'  hot  fut  to  happy  people  that 
are  snoozin'  in  th'  sun.  '  Get  up,'  says 
Prosperity.  *  Get  up,  an'  hustle  over  to  th' 
rollin'  mills  :  there's  a  man  over  there  wants 
ye  to  carry  a  ton  iv  coal  on  ye'er  back.'  '  But 
I  don't  want  to  wurruk,'  says  th'  lad.  '  I'm 
very  comfortable  th'  way  I  am.'  '  It  makes 
no  difference,'  says  Prosperity.  '  Ye've  got 
to  do  ye'er  lick.  Wurruk,  f 'r  th'  night  is 
comin'.  Get  out,  an'  hustle.  Wurruk,  or 
ye  can't  be  unhappy;  an',  if  th'  wurruld  isn't 
unhappy,  they'se  no  such  a  thing  as  Pros- 
perity.' 

"  That's  wan  thing  I  can't  understand," 
Mr.  Dooley  went  on.  "  Th'  newspapers  is 
run  be  a  lot  iv  gazabos  that  thinks  wurruk 
is  th'  ambition  iv  mankind.  Most  iv  th' 
people    I   know  'd   be    happiest   layin'   on   a 


PROSPERITY  179 

lounge  with  a  can  near  by,  or  stretchin' 
thimsilves  f  r  another  nap  at  eight  in  th' 
mornin'.  But  th'  papers  make  it  out  that 
there'd  be  no  sunshine  in  th'  land  without 
you  an'  me,  Hinnissy,  was  up  befure  daybreak 
puUin'  a  sthreet-car  or  poundin'  sand  with  a 
shovel.  I  seen  a  line,  '  Prosperity  effects  on 
th'  Pinnsylvania  Railroad';  an'  I  read  on  to 
find  that  th'  road  intinded  to  make  th'  men 
in  their  shops  wurruk  tin  hours  instead  iv 
eight,  an'  it  says  '  there's  no  reasons  why 
they  should  not  wurruk  Sundahs  iv  they 
choose.'  If  they  choose  !  An'  what  chance 
has  a  man  got  that  wants  to  make  th'  wurruld 
brighter  an'  happier  be  rollin'  car-wheels  but 
to  miss  mass  an'  be  at  th'  shops  ?  " 

"We  must  all  work,"  said  Mr.  McKenna, 
sententiously. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "or  be 
wurruked." 


THE    GREAT    HOT   SPELL. 

It  was  sultry  everywhere,  but  particularly 
in  Archey  Road;  for  in  summer  Archey 
Road  is  a  tunnel  for  the  south-west  wind, 
which  refreshes  itself  at  the  rolling-mill 
blasts,  and  spills  its  wrath  upon  the  just  and 
the  unjust  alike.  Wherefore  Mr.  Dooley 
and  Mr.  McKenna  were  both  steaming,  as 
they  sat  at  either  side  of  the  door  of  Mr. 
Dooley's  place,  with  their  chairs  tilted  back 
against  the  posts. 

"  Hot,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  Warrum,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 

"  I  think  this  is  the  hottest  September 
that  ever  was,"  said  Mr.  McKenna. 

"So  ye  say,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "An' 
that's  because  ye're  a  young  man,  a  kid.  If 
ye  was  my  age,  ye'd  know  betther.  How 
d'ye  do,  Mrs.  Murphy .?  Go  in,  an'  fill  it 
ye'ersilf.  Ye'll  find  th'  funnel  undher  th' 
see-gar  case. —  Ye'd  know  betther  thin  that. 
Th'  Siptimber  iv  th'  year  eighteen  sixty-eight 
was  so  much  hotter  thin  this  that,  if  ye  wint 


THE  GREAT  HOT  SPELL     i8i 

fr'm  wan  to  th'  other,  ye'd  take  noomoney 
iv  th'  lungs, —  ye  wud  so.  'Twas  a  remark- 
able summer,  takin'  it  all  in  all.  On  th' 
Foorth  iv  July  they  was  a  fut  iv  ice  in 
Haley's  slough,  an'  I  was  near  flooded  out 
be  th'  wather  pipe  bustin'.  A  man  be  th' 
name  iv  Maloney  froze  his  hand  settin'  oft 
a  Roman  candle  near  Main  Sthreet,  an' — 
Tin  cints,  please,  ma'am.  Thank  ye  kindly. 
How's  th'  good  man  ?  —  As  I  said,  it  was  a 
remarkable  summer.  It  rained  all  August, 
an'  th'  boys  wint  about  on  rafts  ;  an'  a  sthreet- 
car  got  lost  fr'm  th'  road,  an'  I  dhrove  into 
th'  canal,  an'  all  on  boord  —  'Avnin',  Mike. 
Ah-ha,  'twas  a  great  fight.  An'  Buck  got 
his  eye,  did  he  ?     A  good  man. 

"  Well,  Jawn,  along  come  Siptimber.  It 
begun  fairly  warrum,  wan  hundherd  or  so  in 
th'  shade ;  but  no  wan  minded  that.  Thin 
it  got  hotter  an'  hotter,  an'  people  begun  to 
complain  a  little.  They  was  sthrong  in  thim 
days, —  not  Hke  th'  joods  they  raise  now, — 
an'  a  little  heat  more  or  less  didn't  kill  thim. 
But  afther  a  while  it  was  more  thin  most  iv 


1 82    THE  GREAT  HOT  SPELL 

thim  wanted.  The  sthreet-car  thracks  got 
so  soft  they  spread  all  over  th'  sthreet,  an' 
th'  river  run  dhry.  Afther  boilin'  f  r  five 
days  like  a —  How  are  ye,  Dempsey?  Ye 
don't  tell  me  ?  Now  th'  likes  iv  him  runnin' 
f  r  aldherman !  I'd  as  lave  vote  f 'r  th' 
tillygraph  pole.  Well,  be  good  to  ye'ersilf. 
Folks  all  well?  Thanks  be. —  They  shut 
off  th'  furnaces  out  at  th'  mills,  an'  melted 
th'  iron  be  puttin'  it  out  in  th'  sun.  Th' 
puddlers  wurruked  in  iron  cases,  an'  was 
kept  alive  be  men  playin'  a  hose  on  thim 
fr'm  th'  packin'  house  refrigerator.  Wan  iv 
thim  poked  his  head  out  to  light  his  pipe, 
an'  he  was  —  Well,  well,  Timothy,  ye  are 
quite  a  sthranger.  Ah,  dear  oh  me,  that's 
too  ba-ad,  too  ba-ad.  I'll  tell  ye  what  ye 
do.  Ye  rub  th'  hand  in  half  iv  a  potato, 
an'  say  tin  pather  an'  avy's  over  it  ivry  day 
f'r  tin  days.  'Tis  a  sure  cure.  I  had  wan 
wanst.  Th'  kids  are  thrivin',  I  dinnaw  ? 
That's  good.  Betther  to  hear  thim  yellin' 
in  th'  sthreet  thin  th'  sound  iv  th'  docthor's 
gig  at  th'  dure. 


THE  GREAT  HOT  SPELL    183 

"  Well,  Jawn,  things  wint  fr'm  bad  to 
worse.  All  th'  beer  in  th'  house  was  mulled  ; 
an'Mrs.  Dinny  Hogan — her  that  was  Ode- 
lia  O'Brien  —  burned  her  face  atin*  ice-crame 
down  be  th'  Italyan  man's  place,  on  Halsthed 
Sthreet.  'Twas  no  sthrange  sight  to  see  an 
ice-wagon  goin'  along  th'  sthreet  on  fire  — 
McCarthy  !  McCarthy  !  come  over  here  ! 
Sure,  ye're  gettin'  proud,  passin'  by  ye'er  ol' 
frinds.  How's  thricks  in  th'  Ninth  ?  D'ye 
think  he  will?  Well,  I've  heerd  that,  too; 
but  they  was  a  man  in  here  to-day  that  says 
the  Boohemians  is  out  f'r  him  with  axes. 
Good-night,      Don't  forget  th'  number. 

"  They  was  a  man  be  th'  name  iv  Daheny, 
Jawn,  a  cousin  iv  th'  wan  ye  know,  that 
started  to  walk  up  th'  r-road  fr'm  th'  bridge. 
Befure  he  got  to  Halsthed  Sthreet,  his  shoes 
was  on  fire.  He  turned  in  an  alarm  ;  but  th' 
fire  departmint  was  all  down  on  Mitchigan 
Avnoo,  puttin'  out  th'  lake,  an'  "  — 

"  Putting  out  what  ? "  demanded  Mr. 
McKenna. 

"  Puttin'     out     th'     lake,"    replied     Mr. 


1 84    THE  GREAT  HOT  SPELL 

Dooley,  stolidly.  "  They  was  no  insurance 
—  A  good  avnin'  to  ye,  Mrs.  Doyle.  Ye're 
goin'  over,  thin  ?  I  was  there  las'  night,  an' 
a  finer  wake  I  niver  see.  They  do  nawthin' 
be  halves.  How  was  himsilf?  As  natural 
as  life  ?  Yes,  ma'am,  rayqueem  high  mass, 
be  carredges  to  Calv'ry. 

"On  th'  twinty-fifth  iv  Siptimber  a  change 
come.  It  was  very  sudden  ;  an',  steppin'  out 
iv  th'  ice-box  where  I  slept  in  th'  mornin', 
I  got  a  chill.  I  wint  for  me  flannels,  an' 
stopped  to  look  at  th'  thermomether.  It 
was  four  hundherd  an'  sixty-five." 

"  How  much  ?  "  asked  Mr.  McKenna. 
"  Four  hundherd  an'  sixty-five." 
"  Fahrenheit  ?  " 

"  No,  it  belonged  to  Dorsey.  Ah  !  well, 
well,  an'  here's  Cassidy.  Come  in,  frind,  an' 
have  a  shell  iv  beer.  I've  been  tellin' 
Jawnny  about  th'  big  thaw  iv  eighteen  sixty- 
eight.  Feel  th'  wind,  man  alive.  'Tis 
turnin'  cool,  an'  we'll  sleep  to-night." 


KEEPING    LENT. 

Mr.  McKenna  had  observed  Mr.  Dooley 
in  the  act  of  spinning  a  long,  thin  spoon  in 
a  compound  which  reeked  pleasantly  and 
smelt  of  the  humming  water  of  commerce ; 
and  he  laughed  and  mocked  at  the  philos- 
opher. 

"  Ah-ha,"  he  said,  "  that's  th'  way  you 
keep  Lent,  is  it  ?  Two  weeks  from  Ash 
Wednesday,  and  you  tanking  up." 

Mr.  Dooley  went  on  deliberately  to  finish 
the  experiment,  leisurely  dusting  the  surface 
with  nutmeg  and  tasting  the  product  before 
setting  down  the  glass  daintily.  Then  he 
folded  his  apron,  and  lay  back  in  ample 
luxury  while  he  began :  "  Jawn,  th'  holy 
season  iv  Lent  was  sent  to  us  f'r  to  teach  us 
th'  weakness  iv  th'  human  flesh.  Man  pro- 
poses, an'  th'  Lord  disposes,  as  Hinnissy 
says. 

"  I  mind  as  well  as  though  it  was  yesterday 
th'  struggle  iv  me  father  f'r  to  keep  Lent. 
He  began  to  talk  it  a  month  befure  th'  time. 


i86  KEEPING  LENT 

*  On  Ash  Winsdah;  he'd  say,  '  I'll  go  in  Pr 
a  rale  season  iv  fast  an'  abstinince,'  he'd  say. 
An'  sure  enough,  whin  Ash  Winsdah  come 
round  at  midnight,  he'd  take  a  long  dhraw 
at  his  pipe  an'  knock  th'  ashes  out  slowly 
again  his  heel,  an'  thin  put  th'  dhudeen  up 
behind  th'  clock.  *  There,'  says  he,  '  there 
ye  stay  till  Easter  morn,'  he  says.  Ash 
Winsdah  he  talked  iv  nawthin  but  th'  pipe. 

*  *Tis  exthrordinney  how  easy  it  is  f'r  to 
lave  off,'  he  says.  '  All  ye  need  is  will 
power,'  he  says.  '  I  dinnaw  that  I'll  iver 
put  a  pipe  in  me  mouth  again.  'Tis  a  bad 
habit,  smokin'  is,'  he  says ;  '  an'  it  costs 
money.  A  man's  betther  off  without  it.  I 
find  I  dig  twict  as  well,'  he  says ;  *  an',  as  f'r 
cuttin'  turf,  they'se  not  me  like  in  th'  parish 
since  1  left  off  th'  pipe,'  he  says. 

"Well,  th'  nex'  day  an'  th'  nex'  day  he 
talked  th'  same  way  ;  but  Fridah  he  was  sour, 
an'  looked  up  at  th'  clock  where  th'  pipe 
was.  Saturdah  me  mother,  thinkin'  to  be 
plazin   to   him,  says :   '  Terrence,'   she   says, 

*  yc're    iver   so    much    betther   without    th' 


KEEPING  LENT  187 

tobacco,'  she  says.  '  I'm  glad  to  find  you 
don't  need  it.  Ye'll  save  money,'  she  says. 
*  Be  quite,  woman,'  says  he.  '  Dear,  oh 
dear,'  he  says,  'I'd  Hke  a  pull  at  th'  clay,' 
he  says.  '  Whin  Easter  comes,  plaze  Gawd, 
I'll  smoke  mesilf  black  an'  blue  in  th'  face,' 
he  says. 

"That  was  th'  beginin'  iv  th'  downfall. 
Ch-oosdah  he  was  settin'  in  front  iv  th'  fire 
with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth.  '  Why,  Terrence,' 
says  me  mother,  '  ye're  smokin'  again.' 
'I'm  not,'  says  he:  ''tis  a  dhry  smoke,'  he 
says ;  '  'tisn't  lighted,'  he  says.  Wan  week 
afther  th'  swear-off  he  came  fr'm  th'  field 
with  th'  pipe  in  his  face,  an'  him  puffin' 
away  like  a  chimney.  '  Terrence,*  says  me 
mother,  '  it  isn't  Easter  morn.'  '  Ah-ho,' 
says  he,  '  I  know  it,'  he  says  ;  '  but,'  he  says, 
'  what  th'  divvle  do  I  care  ? '  he  says.  '  I 
wanted  f'r  to  find  out  whether  it  had  th' 
masthery  over  me;  an','  he  says,  'I've 
proved  that  it  hasn't,'  he  says.  '  But  what's 
th'  good  iv  swearin'  off,  if  ye  don't  break 
it?'  he  savs.  *  An'  annyhow,'  he  says,  'I 
glory  in  me  shame.' 


i88  KEEPING  LENT 

"  Now,  Jawn,"  Mr:  Dooley  went  on, 
"  I've  got  what  Hogan  calls  a  theery,  an' 
it's  this :  that  what's  thrue  iv  wan  man's 
thrue  iv  all  men,  I'm  me  father's  son 
a'most  to  th'  hour  an'  day.  Put  me  in  th' 
County  Roscommon  forty  year  ago,  an'  I'd 
done  what  he'd  done.  Put  him  on  th' 
Ar-rchey  Road,  an'  he'd  be  deliverin'  ye  a 
lecture  on  th'  sin  iv  thinkin'  ye're  able  to 
overcome  th'  pride  iv  th'  flesh,  as  Father 
Kelly  says.  Two  weeks  ago  I  looked  with 
contimpt  on  Hinnissy  f 'r  an'  because  he'd 
not  even  promise  to  fast  an'  obstain  fr'm 
croquet  durin'  Lent.  To-night  you  see  me 
mixin'  me  toddy  without  th'  shadow  iv  re- 
morse about  me.  I'm  proud  iv  it.  An' 
why  not  ?  '  was  histin'  in  me  first  wan 
whin  th'  soggarth  corne  down  fr'm  a  sick 
call,  an' looked  in  at  me.  'In  Lent?'  he 
says,  half-laughin'  out  in  thim  quare  eyes  iv 
his.  'Yes,'  said  I.  'Well,'  he  says,  '  I'm 
not  authorized  to  say  this  be  th'  propa- 
ganda,' he  says,  '  an'  'tis  no  part  iv  th'  direc- 
tions f 'r  Lent,'  he  says  ;  '  but,'  he  says,  '  I'll 


KEEPING  LENT  189 

tell  ye  this,  Martin,'  he  says,  '  that  they'se 
more  ways  than  wan  iv  keepin'  th'  season,' 
he  says.  '  I've  knowed  thim  that  starved 
th'  stomach  to  feast  th'  evil  temper,'  he  says. 
*  They'se  a  little  priest  down  be  th'  Ninth 
Ward  that  niver  was  known  to  keep  a  fast 
day  ;  but  Lent  or  Christmas  tide,  day  in  an' 
day  out,  he  goes  to  th'  hospital  where  they 
put  th'  people  that  has  th'  small-pox.  Star- 
vation don't  always  mean  salvation.  If  it 
did,'  he  says,  '  they'd  have  to  insure  th' 
pavemint  in  wan  place,  an'  they'd  be  money 
to  burn  in  another.  Not,'  he  says,  '  that  I 
want  ye  to  undherstand  that  I  look  kindly 
on  th'  sin  iv  '  — 

" '  'Tis  a  cold  night  out,'  says  I. 

"  '  Well,'  he  says,  th'  dear  man,  '  ye  may. 
On'y,'  he  says,  '  'tis  Lent.' 

"  *  Yes,'  says  I. 

"*Well,  thin,'  he  says,  'by  ye'er  lave  I'll 
take  but  half  a  lump  iv  sugar  in  mine,'  he 
says." 


THE  QUICK  AND  THE  DEAD. 

Mr.  Dooley  and  Mr.  McKenna  sat  out- 
side the  ample  door  of  the  little  liquor  store, 
the  evening  being  hot,  and  wrapped  their 
legs  around  the  chair,  and  their  lips  around 
two  especially  long  and  soothing  drinks. 
They  talked  politics  and  religion,  the  people 
up  and  down  the  street,  the  chances  of 
Murphy,  the  tinsmith,  getting  on  the  force, 
and  a  great  deal  about  the  weather.  A 
woman  in  white  started  Mr.  McKenna's 
nerves. 

"  Glory  be,  I  thought  it  was  a  ghost !  " 
said  Mr.  McKenna,  whereupon  the  conver- 
sation drifted  to  those  interesting  phenomena. 
Mr.  Dooley  asked  Mr.  McKenna  if  he  had 
ever  seen  one.  Mr.  McKenna  replied  that 
he  hadn't,  and  didn't  want  to.  Had  Mr. 
Dooley  ?  "  No,"  said  the  philosopher,  "  I 
niver  did ;  an'  it's  always  been  more  thin 
sthrange  to  me  that  annywan  shud  come 
back  afther  he'd  been  stuck  in  a  crate  five 
feet   deep,   with  a   ton   iv   mud    upon   him. 


QUICK  AND  THE  DEAD     191 

'Tis  onplisint  iv  thim,  annyhow,  not  to  say 
ongrateful.  F'r  mesilf,  if  I  was  wanst  pushed 
off,  an'  they'd  waked  me  kindly,  an'  had 
a  solemn  rayqueem  high  mass  f'r  me,  an' 
a  funeral  with  Roddey's  Hi-beryan  band, 
an'  th'  A-ho-aitches,  I  have  too  much  pride 
to  come  back  f'r  an  encore.  I  wud  so, 
Jawn.  Whin  a  man's  dead,  he  ought  to 
make  th'  best  iv  a  bad  job,  an'  not  be 
thrapsin'  around,  lookin'  f'r  throuble  among 
his  own  kind, 

"  No,  I  niver  see  wan,  but  I  know  there 
are  such  things  ;  f'r  twinty  years  ago  all  th' 
road  was  talkin'  about  how  Flaherty,  th' 
tailor,  laid  out  th'  ghost  iv  Tim  O'Grady. 
O'Grady  was  a  big  sthrappin'  Connock  man, 
as  wide  across  th'  shoulders  as  a  freight  car. 
He  was  a  plastherer  be  thrade  whin  wages 
was  high,  an'  O'Grady  was  rowlin'  in  wealth. 
Ivry  Sundah  ye'd  see  him,  with  his  horse 
an'  buggy  an'  his  goold  watch  an'  chain,  in 
front  iv  th'  SuUivans'  house,  waitin'  f'r 
Mary  Ann  Sullivan  to  go  f'r  a  buggy  ride 
with  him  over  to   McxHlister  Place ;  an'  he 


192     QUICK  AND  THE  DEAD 

fin'lly  married  her,  again  th'  wishes  iv 
Flaherty,  who  took  to  histin'  in  dhrinks,  an' 
missed  his  jooty,  an'  was  a  scandal  in  th' 
parish  f 'r  six  months. 

"  O'Grady  didn't  improve  with  mathri- 
mony,  but  got  to  lanin'  again  th'  ol'  stuff, 
an'  walkin'  up  an'  down  th'  sidewalk  in  his 
shirt-sleeves,  with  his  thumbs  stuck  in  his 
vest,  an'  his  little  pipe  turned  upside  down  ; 
an',  whin  he  see  Flaherty,  'twas  his  custom 
to  run  him  up  an  alley,  so  that  th'  little 
tailor  man  niver  had  a  minyit  iv  peace. 
Ivry  wan  supposed  he  lived  in  a  three  most 
iv  th'  time,  to  be  out  iv  th'  way  iv  O'Grady. 

"  Well,  wan  day  O'Grady  he  seen  Flaherty 
walkin'  down  th'  sthreet  with  a  pair  iv  lav- 
ender pants  f 'r  Willum  Joyce  to  wear  to  th' 
Ogden  Grove  picnic,  an'  thried  to  heave  a 
brick  at  him.  He  lost  his  balance,  an'  fell 
fr'm  th'  scaffoldin'  he  was  wurrukin'  on  ;  an' 
th'  last  wurruds  he  said  was,  *  Did  I  get 
him  or  didn't  I  ? '  Mrs.  O'Grady  said  it 
was  th'  will  iv  Gawd ;  an'  he  was  burrid  at 
Calvary  with  a  funeral  iv  eighty  hacks,  an' 


QUICK  AND  THE  DEAD     193 

a  great  manny  people  In  their  own  buggies. 
Dorsey,  th'  conthractor,  was  there  with  his 
wife.  He  thought  th'  wurruld  an'  all  iv 
O'Grady. 

"  Wan  year  aftherward  Flaherty  begun 
makin'  up  to  Mrs.  O'Grady  ;  an'  ivry  wan 
in  th'  parish  seen  it,  an'  was  glad  iv  it,  an' 
said  it  was  scandalous.  How  it  iver  got  out 
to  O'Grady's  pew  in  th'  burryin'  ground, 
I'll  niver  tell  ye,  an'  th'  Lord  knows;  but 
wan  evenin'  th'  ghost  iv  O'Grady  come 
back.  Flaherty  was  settin'  in  th'  parlor, 
smokin'  a  seegar,  with  O'Grady's  slippers 
on  his  feet,  whin  th'  spook  come  in  in  th' 
mos'  natural  way  in  the  wurruld,  kickin' 
th'  dog.  '  What  ar-re  ye  doin'  here,  ye 
little  farryer  iv  pants  ? '  he  says.  Mrs. 
O'Grady  was  f 'r  faintin'  ;  but  O'Flaherty  he 
says,  says  he:  'Be  quite,'  he  says.  'I'll 
dale  with  him.'  Thin  to  th'  ghost :  '  Have 
ye  paid  th'  rint  here,  ye  big  ape?'  he  says. 
'  What  d'ye  mane  be  comin'  back,  whin  th' 
landlord  ain't  heerd  fr'm  ye  f 'r  a  year  ? '  he 
says.     Well,  O'Grady's  ghost  was  that  sur- 


194     QUICK  AND  THE  DEAD 

prised  he  cud  hardly  speak.  '  Ye  ought  to 
have  betther  manners  thin  insultin'  th'  dead,' 
he  says.  '  Ye  ought  to  have  betther  man- 
ners thin  to  be  lavin'  ye'er  coffin  at  this  hour 
iv  th'  night,  an'  breakin'  in  on  dacint  people,' 
says  Flaherty.  '  What  good  does  it  do  to 
have  rayqueem  masses  f  r  th'  ray  pose  iv  th' 
like  iv  you,'  he  says,  *  that  doesn't  know  his 
place?'  he  says.  *  I'm  masther  iv  this  house,' 
says  th'  ghost.  '  Not  on  ye'er  life,'  says 
Flaherty.  '  Get  out  iv  here,  or  I'll  make 
th'  ghost  iv  a  ghost  out  iv  ye.  I  can  lick 
anny  dead  man  that  iver  lived,'  he  said. 

"  With  that  th'  ghost  iv  O'Grady  made  a 
pass  at  him,  an'  they  clinched  an'  rowled  on 
th'  flure.  Now  a  ghost  is  no  aisy  mark 
f'r  anny  man,  an'  O'Grady's  ghost  was  as 
sthrong  as  a  cow.  It  had  Flaherty  down  on 
th'  flure  an'  was  feedin'  him  with  a  book 
they  call  th'  '  Christyan  Martyrs,'  whin  Mrs. 
O'Grady  put  a  bottle  in  Flaherty's  hands. 
'  What's  this  ? '  says  Flaherty.  '  Howly 
wather,'  says  Mrs.  O'Grady.  '  Sprinkle  it 
on   him,'   says    Mrs.   O'Grady.     'Woman,' 


QUICK  AND  THE  DEAD     195 

saj^s  th'  tailor  between  th'  chapter  iv  ih' 
book,  'this  is  no  time  f'r  miracles,'  he 
says.  An'  he  give  O'Grady's  ghost  a  tre- 
minjous  wallop  on  th'  head.  Now,  whether 
it  was  th'  wather  or  th'  wallop,  I'll  not  tell 
ye ;  but,  annyhow,  th'  ghost  give  wan  yell 
an'  disappeared.  An'  th'  very  next  Sundah, 
whin  Father  Kelly  wint  into  th'  pulpit  at 
th'  gospel,  he  read  th'  names  iv  Roger 
Kickham  Flaherty  an'  Mary  Ann  O'Grady." 

"  Did  the  ghost  ever  come  back?  "  asked 
Mr.  McKenna. 

"  Niver,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "  Wanst 
was  enough.  But,  mind  ye,  I'd  hate  to 
have  been  wan  iv  th'  other  ghosts  th'  night 
O'Grady  got  home  fr'm  th'  visit  to  O'Fia- 
herty's.  There  might  be  ghosts  that  cud 
stand  him  off  with  th'  gloves,  but  in  a  round 
an'  tumble  fight  he  cud  lick  a  St.  Patrick's 
Day  procession  iv  thim." 


THE    SOFT    SPOT. 

"  Anny  more  cyclone  news?"  Mr. 
Dooley  asked  Mr.  McKenna,  as  he  came 
in  with  a  copy  of  an  extra  paper  in  his 
hand. 

"Nothing  much,"  Mr.  McKenna  re- 
sponded. "  This  paper  says  the  angel  of 
death  has  give  up  riding  on  the  whirlwind." 

"Tis  betther  so,"  said  Mr.  Dooley:  "a 
bicycle  is  more  satisfactory  f 'r  a  steady  thing. 
But,  faith,  'tis  no  jokin'  matter.  May  th' 
Lord  forgive  me  f'r  makin'  light  iv  it! 
Jawn,  whin  I  read  about  thim  poor  people 
down  in  St.  Looey,  sthruck  be  th'  wrath  iv 
Hivin'  without  more  warnin'  thin  a  man  gets 
in  a  Polock  church  fight  an'  swept  to  their 
graves  be  th'  hundhreds,  me  heart  ached  in 
me. 

"  But  they'se  always  some  compinsation 
in  th'  likes  iv  this.  To  see  th'  wurruid  as 
it  r-runs  along  in  its  ordinrey  coorse,  with 
ivry  man  seemin'  to  be  lookin'  f'r  th'  best 
iv  it  an'  carry  in'  a  little  hammer  f'r  his  fel- 


THE  SOFT  SPOT  197 

jow-sufF'rers,  ye'd  think  what  Hinnissy  calls 
th'  springs  iv  human  sympathy  was  as  dhry 
in  th'  breast  as  a  bricklayer's  boot  in  a  box 
iv  mortar.  But  let  annything  happen  like 
this,  an'  men  ye'd  suspect  iv  goin'  round 
with  a  cold  chisel  liftin'  name-plates  off  iv 
coffins  comes  to  th'  front  with  their  lips  full 
iv  comfort  an'  kindliness  an',  what's  more  to 
th'  point,  their  hands  full  iv  coin. 

"  Years  ago  there  used  to  be  a  man  be  th' 
iiame  iv  O'Brien  —  no  relation  iv  th'  sinitoi 
—  lived  down  be  th'  dumps.  He  was  well 
off,  an'  had  quit  wur-rkin'  f'r  a  living. 
Well,  whether  he'd  been  disappointed  in 
love  or  just  naturally  had  a  kick  up  to  him 
again  th'  wurruld  I  niver  knew ;  but  this 
here  ol'  la-ad  put  in  his  time  from  morn  till 
night  handin'  out  contimpt  an'  hathred  to 
all  mankind.  No  wan  was  harder  to  rent 
fr'm.  He  had  some  houses  near  Halsted 
Sthreet,  an'  I've  see  him  servin'  five  days' 
notices  on  his  tenants  whin'  th'  weather  was 
that  cold  ye  cudden't  see  th'  inside  iv  th' 
furnace-rooms  at  th'  mill  f'r  th'  frost  on  th' 


198  THE  SOFT  SPOT 

window.  Of  all  th'  landlords  on  earth, 
th'  Lord  deliver  me  fr'm  an'  Irish  wan. 
Whether  'tis  that  fr'm  niver  holdin'  anny 
land  in  th'  ol'  counthry  they  put  too  high  a 
fondness  on  their  places  whin  they  get  a  lot 
or  two  over  here,  I  don't  know  ;  but  they're 
quicker  with  th'  constable  thin  anny  others. 
I've  seen  men,  that  'd  divide  their  last  cint 
with  ye  pay  night,  as  hard,  whin  it  come  to 
gather  in  th'  rent  f 'r  two  rooms  in  th'  rear, 
as  if  they  was  an  Irish  peer's  agents;  an' 
O'Brien  had  no  such  start  iv  binivolence  to 
go  on.  He  niver  seemed  to  pass  th'  poor- 
box  in  church  without  wantin'  to  break  into 
it.  He  charged  cint  per  cint  whin  Casey,  th' 
plumber,  buried  his  wife  an'  borrid  money 
f'r  th'  funeral  expenses.  I  see  him  wanst 
chasin'  th'  agent  iv  th'  Saint  Vincent  de 
Pauls  down  th'  road  f'r  darin'  to  ask  him  f'r 
a  contribution.  To  look  at  his  har-rsh  red 
face,  as  he  sat  at  his  window  markin'  up  his 
accounts,  ye'd  know  he  was  hard  in  th'  bit 
an'  heavy  in  th'  hand.  An'  so  he  was, —  as 
hard  an'  heavy  as  anny  man  I  iver  seen  in 
all  me  born  days. 


THE  SOFT  SPOT  199 

"Well,  Peter  O'Brien  had  lived  on  long 
enough  to  have  th'  pious  curses  iv  th'  entire 
parish,  whin  th'  fire  broke  out,  th'  second 
fire  iv  sivintv-four,  whin  th'  damage  was  tin 
or  twinty  millions  iv  dollars  an'  I  lost  a 
bull  terrier  be  th'  name  iv  Robert  Immitt, 
r-runnin'  afther  th'  ingines.  O'Brien  dis- 
appeared fr'm  th'  r-road  durin'  th'  fire, —  he 
had  some  property  on  th'  South  Side, —  an' 
wasn't  seen  or  heerd  tell  iv  f  r  a  day.  Th' 
nex'  mornin'  th'  rayport  come  in  that  he 
was  seen  walkin'  over  th'  red  bridge  with  a 
baby  in  his  arms.  '  Glory  be  ! '  says  I  :  '  is 
th'  man  goin'  to  add  canniballing  to  his 
other  crimes  ? '  Sure  enough,  as  I  sthud  in 
th'  dureway,  along  come  O'Brien,  v.ith  his 
hands  scalded,  his  eyebrows  gone,  an'  most 
iv  his  clothes  tore  fr'm  his  back,  but  silent 
an'  grim  as  iver,  with  a  mite  iv  a  girl  held 
tight  to  his  breast,  an'  her  fast  asleep. 

"He  had  a  house  back  iv  my  place, — 
he  ownded  th'  fifty  feet  frontin'  on  Grove 
Sthreet,  bought  it  fr'm  a  man  named  Grogan, 
—  an'   'twas  rinted  be  a  widdy  lady  be  th' 


200  THE  SOFT  SPOT 

name  iv  Sullivan,  wife  iv  a  bricklayer  iv 
th'  same  name.  He  was  sthridin'  into  th' 
Widow  Sullivan's  house ;  an'  says  he,  '  Mis- 
tress Sullivan,'  he  says.  '  Yes,'  says  she,  in 
a  thremble,  knottin'  her  apron  in  her  hands 
an'  standin'  in  front  iv  her  own  little  wans, 
*  what  can  I  do  f'r  ye  ? '  she  says.  '  Th' 
rent's  not  due  till  to-morrow.'  '  I  very  well 
know  that,'  he  says  ;  *  an'  I  want  ye  to  take 
care  iv  this  wan',  he  says.  'An'  I'll  pay  ye 
f'r  ye'er  throuble,'  he  says. 

"  We  niver  knew  where  he  got  th'  child  : 
he  niver  told  annywan.  Docthor  Casey  said 
he  was  badly  burnt  about  th'  head  an'  hands. 
He  testified  to  it  in  a  suit  he  brought  again 
O'Brien  f'r  curin'  him.  F'r  th'  man 
O'Brien,  instead  iv  rayformin'  like  they  do 
in  th'  play,  was  a  long  sight  meaner  afther 
he  done  this  wan  thing  thin  iver  befure.  If 
he  was  tight-fisted  wanst,  he  was  as  close  now 
as  calcimine  on  a  rough-finished  wall.  He 
put  his  tinints  out  in  th'  cold  without 
mercy,  he  kicked  blind  beggars  fr'm  th' 
dure,  an'  on  his  dyin'-bed  he  come  as  near 


THE  SOFT  SPOT  201 

bein'  left  be  raison  iv  his  thryin'  to  bargain 
with  th'  good  man  f'r  th'  rayqueems  as 
annywan  ye  iver  see.  But  he  raised  th' 
little  girl ;  an'  I  sometimes  think  that,  whin 
they  count  up  th'  cash,  they'll  let  O'Brien 
off  with  a  character  f'r  that  wan  thing, 
though  there's  some  pretty  hard  tabs  again 
him. 

"They  ain't  much  point  in  what  I've  told 
ye  more  thin  this, —  that  beneath  ivry  man's 
outside  coat  there  lies  some  good  feelin'. 
We  ain't  as  bad  as  we  make  ourselves  out. 
We've  been  stringin'  ropes  across  th'  sthreet 
f'r  th'  people  iv  Saint  Looey  f'r  thirty  years 
an'  handin'  thim  bricks  fr'm  th'  chimbleys 
whiniver  we  got  a  chance,  but  we've  on'y 
got  wurruds  an'  loose  change  f'r  thim  whin 
th'  hard  times  comes." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  McKenna,  "I  see  even 
the  aldhermen  has  come  to  the  front,  offering 
relief." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  thoughtfully, 
"  I  on'y  hope  they  won't  go  to  Saint  Looey 
to  disthri-bute  it  thimsilves.  That  would 
be  a  long  sight  worse  thin  th'  cyclone." 


THE    IRISHMAN    ABROAD. 

Mr.  Dooley  laid  down  his  morning 
paper,  and  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  chan- 
deliers. 

"Taaffe,"  he  said  musingly, —  "  Taaffe  — 
where  th'  divvle  ?     Th'  name's  familiar." 

"  He  lives  in  the  Nineteenth,"  said  Mr. 
McKenna.  "  If  I  remember  right,  he  has  a 
boy  on  th'  force." 

"Goowan,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  with  ye'er 
nineteenth  wa-ards.  Th'  Taaffe  I  mane  is 
in  Austhria.  Where  in  all,  where  in  all? 
No  :  yes,  by  gar,  I  have  it.     A-ha ! 

*'  But  cur-rsed  he  th'  day. 

Whin  Lord  TaafFe  grew  faint-hearted 
An'  sthud  not  n'r  cha-arged. 
But  in  panic  depa-arted." 

"  D'ye  mind  it, —  th'  pome  by  Joyce  ? 
No,  not  Bill  Joyce.  Joyce,  th'  Irish  pote 
that  wrote  th'  pome  about  th'  wa-ars  whin 
me  people  raysisted  Cromwell,  while  yours 
was  carryin'  turf  on  their  backs  to  make  fires 


THE  IRISHMAN  ABROAD    103 

for  th'  crool  invader,  as  Finerty  says  whin 
th'  sub-scriptions  r-runs  low.  'Tis  th'  same 
name,  a  good  ol'  Meath  name  in  th'  days 
gone  by  ;  an'  be  th'  same  token  I  have  in  me 
head  that  this  here  Count  Taaffe,  whether 
he's  an  austrich  or  a  canary  bur-rd  now,  is 
wan  iv  th'  ol'  fam'ly.  There's  manny  iv 
thim  in  Europe  an'  all  th'  wurruld  beside. 
There  was  Pat  McMahon,  th'  Frinchman, 
that  bate  Looey  Napoleon  ;  an'  O'Donnell, 
the  Spanish  juke;  an'  O'DhriscoU  an' 
Lynch,  who  do  be  th'  whole  thing  down  be 
South  America,  not  to  mention  Patsy  Boli- 
var. Ye  can't  go  annywhere  fr'm  Sweden 
to  Boolgahria  without  iindin'  a  Turk  settin' 
up  beside  th'  king  an'  dalin'  out  th'  deek 
with  his  own  hand.  Jawn,  our  people 
makes  poor  Irishmen,  but  good  Dutchmen; 
an',  th'  more  I  see  iv  thim,  th'  more  I  says 
to  mesilf  that  th'  rale  boney  fide  Irishman 
is  no  more  thin  a  foreigner  born  away  from 
home.      'Tis  so. 

"Look   at   thim,   Jawn,"    continued    Mr. 
Dooley,  becoming  eloquent.     "Whin  there's 


204   THE   IRISHMAN  ABROAD 

battles  to  be  won,  who  do  they  sind  for? 
McMahon  or  Shurdan  or  Phil  Kearney  or 
Colonel  Colby.  Whin  there's  books  to  be 
wrote,  who  writes  thim  but  Char-les  Lever 
or  Oliver  Goldsmith  or  Willum  Carleton  ? 
Whin  there's  speeches  to  be  made,  who 
makes  thim  but  Edmund  Burke  or  Macchew 
P.  Brady  ?  There's  not  a  land  on  th'  face 
iv  th'  wurruld  but  th'  wan  where  an  Irish- 
man doesn't  stand  with  his  fellow-man,  or 
above  thim.  Whin  th'  King  iv  Siam  wants 
a  plisint  evenin',  who  does  he  sind  f 'r  but  a 
lively  Kerry  man  that  can  sing  a  song  or 
play  a  good  hand  at  spile-five  ?  Whin  th' 
Sultan  iv  Boolgahria  takes  tea,  'tis  tin  to  wan 
th'  man  across  fr'm  him  is  more  to  home  in 
a  caubeen  thin  in  a  turban.  There's  Mac's 
an'  O's  in  ivry  capital  iv  Europe  atin'  off 
silver  plates  whin  their  relations  is  staggerin' 
under  th'  creels  iv  turf  in  th'  Connaught 
bogs. 

"  Wirra,  'tis  hard.  Ye'd  sa-ay  off  hand, 
'  Why  don't  they  do  as  much  for  their  own 
counthry  ? '     Light-spoken  are  thim  that  sug- 


THE  IRISHMAN  ABROAD    205 

gests  th'  like  iv  that.  'Tis  asier  said  than 
done.  Ye  can't  grow  flowers  in  a  granite 
block,  Jawn  dear,  much  less  whin  th'  first 
shoot  'd  be  thrampled  under  foot  without 
pity.  'Tis  aisy  f 'r  us  over  here,  with  our 
bellies  full,  to  talk  iv  th'  cowardice  iv  th' 
Irish  ;  but  what  would  ye  have  wan  man  iv 
thim  do  again  a  rig"'ment?  'Tis  little 
fightin'  th'  lad  will  want  that  will  have  to  be 
up  before  sunrise  to  keep  th'  smoke  curlin' 
fr'm  th'  chimbley  or  to  patch  th'  rush  roof  to 
keep  out  th'  March  rain.  No,  faith,  Jawn, 
there's  no  soil  in  Ireland  f 'r  th'  greatness  iv 
th'  race  ;  an'  there  has  been  none  since  th' 
wild  geese  wint  across  th'  say  to  France, 
hangin'  like  flies  to  th'  side  iv  th'  Fr-rinch 
ship.  'Tis  only  f'r  women  an'  childher 
now,  an'  thim  that  can't  get  away.  Will  th' 
good  days  ever  come  again  ?  says  ye.  Who 
knows  !  " 


THE    SERENADE. 

"  By  dad,  if  it  wasn't  f'r  that  there  Molly 
Donahue,"  said  Mr.  Dooley  to  Mr.  Mc- 
Kenna,  "  half  th'  life  'd  be  gone  out  iv 
Bridgeport."  "What  has  Molly  Donahue 
been  doin'?"  asked  Mr.  McKenna. 

"  She  have  been  causin'  Felix  Pindergasht 
to  be  sint  to  th'  Sisters  iv  Mercy  Hospital 
with  Inflammathry  rhoomatism.  Ye  know 
Felix.  He  is  a  musical  janius.  Befure  he 
was  tin  year  old  he  had  me  mind  dis- 
thracted  be  playin'  wan  iv  thim  little  mouth 
organs  on  th'  corner  near  me  bedroom  win- 
dow. Thin  he  larned  to  play  th'  ack-car- 
jeen,  an'  cud  swing  it  between  his  legs  an* 
give  an  imitation  iv  th'  cathedral  bell  that  'd 
make  ye  dig  in  ye'er  pocket  to  see  iv  ye  had 
a  dime  f'r  a  seat.  Thin  he  used  to  sit  in 
his  window  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  blowin'  '  Th' 
Vale  iv  Avoca  '  on  a  cornet.  He  was  wan 
whole  month  befure  he  cud  get  th'  *  shall 
fade  fr'm  me  heart '  right.  Half  th'  neigh- 
borhood 'd    be    out  on  th'  sidewalk  yellin' 


THE  SERENADE  207 

*  Lift  it,  Felix, —  lift  an'  scatther  it.  Shall 
fade  fr'm  me  ha-a-rt, —  lift  it,  ye  clumsy 
piper.' 

"  A  few  months  back  th'  stupid  gawk 
begun  to  be  attintive  to  Molly  Donahue,  an', 
like  th'  wild  wan  she  is,  she  dhrew  him  on. 
Did  ye  iver  see  th'  wan  that  wudden't? 
Faith,  they're  all  alike.  If  it  ain't  a  sthraight 
stick,  it's  a  crooked  wan  ;  an'  th'  man  was 
niver  yet  born,  if  he  had  a  hump  on  his 
back  as  big  as  coal-scuttle  an'  had  a  face  like 
th'  back  iv  a  hack,  that  cudden't  get  th'  wink 
iv  th'  eye  fr'm  some  woman.  They're  all 
alike,  all  alike.  Not  that  I've  annything 
again  thim  :  'tis  thim  that  divides  our  sorrows 
an'  doubles  our  joys,  an'  sews  chiny  buttons 
on  our  pa-ants  an'  mends  our  shirts  with 
blue  yarn.  But  they'll  lead  a  man  to  de- 
sthruction  an'  back  again,  thim  same  women. 

"Well,  Felix  had  no  luck  coortin'  Molly 
Donahue.  Wan  night  she  wasn't  in  ;  an  th' 
nex'  night  ol'  man  Donahue  come  to  th' 
dure,  an'  says,  '  Ye  can  put  in  th'  coal  at  th' 
back  dure,'  he  says,  an'  near  broke  th'  la-ad's 


ao8  THE  SERENADE 

heart.  Las'  week  he  pulled  himself  together, 
an'  wint  up  th'  r-road  again.  He  took  his 
cornet  with  him  in  a  green  bag ;  an',  whin  he 
got  in  front  iv  Donahue's  house,  he  outs 
with  th'  horn,  an'  begins  to  play.  Well,  sir, 
at  th'  first  note  half  th'  block  was  in  th' 
sthreet.  Women  come  fr'm  their  houses, 
with  their  shawls  on  their  heads ;  an'  all  th' 
forty-fives  games  was  broke  up  be  raison  iv 
th'  la-ads  lavin'  f'r  to  hear  the  music.  Be- 
fure  Felix  had  got  fairly  started  f'r  to  serry- 
nade  Molly  Donahue,  th'  crowd  was  big  an' 
boistherous.  He  started  on  th'  ol'  favor-ite, 
'  Th'  Vale  iv  Avoca  ';  an'  near  ivry  man  in 
th'  crowd  had  heerd  him  practisin'  it.  He 
wint  along  splendid  till  he  come  to  '  shall 
fade  fr'm  me  heart,'  an'  thin  he  broke. 
'  Thry  again,' says  th'  crowd;  an'  he  stharted 
over.  He  done  no  betther  on  th'  second 
whirl.  '  Niver  say  die,  Felix,'  says  th' 
crowd.  *  Go  afther  it.  We're  all  with  ye.' 
At  that  th'  poor,  deluded  loon  tackled  it 
again ;  an'  th'  crowd  yells :  '  Hist  it  up. 
There  ye  go.     No,  be  hivins  he  fell  at  th' 


THE  SERENADE  209 

last  jump.'  An',  by  dad,  though  he  thried 
f'r  half  an  hour,  he  cud  not  land  th'  '  shall 
fade  fr'm  me  heart,'  At  th'  last  break  th' 
light  In  Molly  Donahue's  window  wint  out, 
an'  th'  crowd  dispersed.  Felix  was  dlscons'- 
late.  *  I  had  it  right  befure  I  come  up,'  he 
says,  '  but  1  missed  me  holt  whin  th'  crowd 
come.  Me  heart's  broke,'  he  says.  *  Th' 
cornet's  not  ye'er  insthrument,'  says  Dorsey. 
*  Ye  shud  thry  to  play  th'  base  dhrum.  It's 
asier.'  " 

"  Is  that  all  that's  going  on  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
McKenna. 

"That  an'  th'  death  iv  wan  iv  Hinnissy's 
goats, —  Marguerite.  No,  no,  not  that  wan. 
That's  Odalia.  Th'  wan  with  th'  brown 
spots.  That's  her.  She  thried  to  ate  wan 
iv  thim  new  theayter  posthers,  an'  perished 
in  great  ag'ny.  They  say  th'  corpse  turned 
red  at  th'  wake,  but  ye  can't  believe  all  ye 
hear." 


THE  HAY  FLEET. 

Mr.  Dooley  had  been  reading  about 
General  Shaffer's  unfortunately  abandoned 
enterprise  for  capturing  Santiago  by  means 
of  a  load  of  hay,  and  it  filled  him  with  great 
enthusiasm.  Laying  down  his  paper,  he 
said :  "  By  dad,  I  always  said  they  give  me 
frind  Shafter  th'  worst  iv  it.  If  they'd  left 
him  do  th'  job  th'  way  he  wanted  to  do  it, 
he'd  've  taken  Sandago  without  losin'  an 
ounce." 

"  How  was  it  he  wanted  to  do  it?  "  Mr. 
Hennessy  asked. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "'twas  this 
way.  This  is  th'  way  it  was.  Ol'  Cervera's 
fleet  was  in  th'  harbor  an'  bottled  up,  as  th' 
man  says.  Shafter  he  says  to  Sampson : 
'  Look  here,  me  bucko,  what  th'  divvle  ar-re 
ye  loafin'  ar-round  out  there  f'r,'  he  says, 
Mike  a  dep'ty  sheriff  at  a  prize  fight?'  he 
says.  'Why  don't  ye  go  in,  an'  smash  th* 
Castiles  ? '  he  says.  'I'm  doin'  well  where 
I  am,'  says    Sampson.      '  Th'    navy  iv   th' 


THE  HAY  FLEET  211 

United  States,'  he  says,  '  which  is  wan  iv  th' 
best,  if  not  th'  best,  in  th'  wurruld,'  he  says, 
*  v/as  not,'  he  says,  '  intinded  f 'r  sthreet 
fightin','  he  says.  '  We'll  stay  here,'  he 
says,  *  where  we  ar-re,'  he  says,  *  until,'  he 
says,  '  we  can  equip  th'  ships  with  noomatic 
tire  wheels,'  he  says,  '  an'  ball  bearin's,'  he 
says. 

"  *  Well,'  says  Shafter,  '  if  ye  won't  go  in,' 
he  says,  *  we'll  show  ye  th'  way,'  he  says. 
An'  he  calls  on  Cap  Brice,  that  was  wan  iv 
th'  youngest  an'  tastiest  dhressers  in  th* 
whole  crool  an'  devastatin'  war.  *  Cap,'  he 
says,  '  is  they  anny  hay  in  th'  camp  ? '  he 
says.  *  Slathers  iv  it,'  says  th'  cap.  '  On- 
less,'  he  says,  *  th'  sojers  et  it,'  he  says. 
'  Th'  las'  load  iv  beef  that  come  down  fr'm 
th'  undhertakers,'  he  says,  *  was  not  good,' 
he  says.  '  Ayether,'  he  says,  *  'twas  im- 
properly waked,'  he  says,  '  or,'  he  says,  '  th' 
pall-bearers  was  careless,'  he  says.  *  Anny- 
how,'  he  says,  '  th'  sojers  won't  eat  it ;  an', 
whin  I  left,  they  was  lookin'  greedily  at  th' 
hay,'  he  says.     '  Cap,'  says  Gin'ral   Shafter, 


112. 


THE  HAY   FLEET 


*  if  anny  man  ates  a  wisp,  shoot  him  on  th' 
spot,'  he  says.  '  Those  hungry  sojers  may 
desthroy  me  hopes  iv  victhry,'  he  says. 
'  What  d'ye  mane  ? '  says  Cap  Brice.  '  I 
mane  this,'  says  Gin'ral  Shafter.  *  I  mane 
to  take  yon  fortress,'  he  says.  '  I'll  sind  ye 
in.  Cap,'  he  says,  '  in  a  ship  protected  be 
hay,'  he  says.  '  Her  turrets  'II  he  alfalfa, 
she'll  have  three  inches  iv  solid  timithy  to 
th'  water  line,  an'  wan  inch  iv  th'  best  clover 
below  th'  wather  line,'  he  says.  '  Did  ye 
ivcr  see  an  eight-inch  shell  pinithrate  a  bale 
iv  hay  ?  '  he  says.  '  I  niver  did,'  says  Cap 
Brice.  *  Maybe  that  v/as  because  I  niver  see 
it  thried,'  he  says.  '  Be  that  as  it  may,'  says 
Gin'ral  Shafter,  '  ye  niver  see  it  done.  No 
more   did    I,'    he  says.     '  Onless,'    he   says, 

*  they  shoot  pitchforks,'  he  says,  'they'll 
niver  hur-rt  ye,'  he  says.  '  Ye'll  be  onvin- 
cible,'  he  says.  '  Ye'll  pro-ceed  into  th' 
harbor,'  he  says,  '  behind  th'  sturdy  armor 
iv  projuce,'  he  says.  '  Let  ye'er  watchword 
be  "  Stay  on  th'  far-rm,"  an'  go  on  to 
victhry,'  he  says.     '  Gin'ral,'  says  Cap  Brice, 


THE  HAY  FLEET  213 

*how  can  I  thank  ye  f'r  th'  honor?'  he  says. 

*  'Tis  no  wondher  th'  men  call  ye  their 
fodder,'  he  says.  'Twas  a  joke  Cap  Brice 
med  at  th'  time.  *  I'll  do  th'  best  I  can,' 
he  says  ;  '  an',  if  I  die  in  th'  attempt,'  he  says, 
'bury  me  where  the  bran-mash  '11  wave  over 
me  grave,'  he  says. 

"  An'  Gin'ral  Shafter  he  got  together  his 
fleet,  an'  put  th'  armor  on  it.  'Twas  a 
formidable  sight.  They  was  th'  cruiser 
'  Box  Stall,'  full  armored  with  sixty-eight 
bales  iv  th'  finest  grade  iv  chopped  feed  ;  th' 

*  R-red  Barn,'  a  modhern  hay  battleship,  pro- 
tected be  a  whole  mow  iv  timothy  ;  an'  th' 
gallant  little  '  Haycock,'  a  torpedo  boat 
shootin'  deadly  missiles  iv  explosive  oats. 
Th'  expedition  was  delayed  be  wan  iv  th' 
mules  sthroUin'  down  to  th'  shore  an'  atin'  up 
th'  afther  batthry  an'  par-rt  iv  th'  ram  iv  th' 
'  R-red  Barn  '  an',  befure  repairs  was  made. 
Admiral  Cervera  heerd  iv  what  was  goin'  on. 
'  Glory  be  to  the  saints,'  he  says, '  what  an  in- 
jaynious  thribe  these  Yankees  is  ! '  says  he. 
'  On'y  a  few  weeks  ago   they   thried  to  de- 


214  THE  HAY  FLEET 

sthroy  me  be  dumpin'  a  load  iv  coal  on  me,' 
he  says  ;  '  an'  now,'  he  says,  '  they're  goin' 
to  smother  me  in  feed,'  he  says.  '  They'll 
be  rollin'  bar'ls  iv  flour  on  me  fr'm  th'  heights 
next,'  he  says.  '  I'd  betther  get  out,'  he  says. 
*  'Tis  far  nobler,'  he  says,  *  to  purrish  on  th' 
ragin'  main,'  he  says,  '  thin  to  die  with 
ye'er  lungs  full  \v  hayseed  an'  ye'er  eyes 
full  iv  dust,'  he  says.  *  I  was  born  in  a  large 
city,'  he  says ;  *  an'  I  don't  know  th'  rules  iv 
th'  barn,'  he  says.  An'  he  wint  out,  an'  took 
his  lickin'. 

"  'Twas  too  bad  Shafter  didn't  get  a  chanst 
at  him,  but  he's  give  th'  tip  to  th'  la-ads 
that  makes  th'  boats.  No  more  ixpinsive 
steel  an'  ir'n,  but  good  ol'  grass  fr'm  th' 
twinty-acre  meadow.  Th'  ship-yards  '11  be 
moved  fr'm  th'  say,  an'  laid  down  in  th' 
neighborhood  iv  Polo,  Illinye,  an'  all  th' 
Mississippi  Valley '11  ring  with  lh'  sound  iv 
th*  scythe  an'  th'  pitchfork  buildin'  th'  de- 
finse  iv  our  counthry's  honor.  Thank  th' 
Lord,  we've  winrows  an'  winrows  iv  Shaf- 
fer's armor  plate  between  here  an'  Dubuque." 


THE  HAY  FLEET  215 

Mr.  Hennessy  said  good-night.  "  As  me 
cousin  used  to  say,"  he  remarked,  "  we*re 
through  with  wan  hell  iv  a  bad  year,  an' 
here  goes  f'r  another  Hke  it." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "may  th' 
Lord  niver  sind  us  a  foolisher  wan  than 
this ! " 


THE    PERFORMANCES    OF 
LIEUTENANT  HOBSON. 

"If  I'd  been  down  to  th'  Audjitooroom 
th'  other  night,"  said  Mr.  Hennessy,  "  an' 
had  a  chunk  iv  coal  fr'm  th'  sunk  '  Merrimac/ 
I'd  iv  handed  it  to  that  man  Loot  Hobson. 
I  wud  so.  Th'  idee  iv  a  hero  standin' up 
befure  thousan's  iv  m^n  with  fam'lies  an' 
bein'  assaulted  be  ondacint  females.  It  med 
me  blush  down  to  th'  soles  iv  me  feet.  If 
they  let  this  thing  go  on,  be  hivins,  why  do 
they  stop  th'  hootchy-kootchy  ?  " 

"  Ividinces  iv  affection  is  always  odjious 
to  an  Irishman,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "an'  to 
all  reel  affectionate  people.  But  me  frind 
Hobson's  not  to  blame.  'Tis  th'  way  th' 
good  Lord  has  iv  makin'  us  cow'rds  con- 
tinted  with  our  lot  that  he  niver  med  a  brave 
man  yet  that  wasn't  half  a  fool.  I've  more 
sinse  an'  wisdom  in  th'  back  iv  me  thumb 
thin  all  th'  heroes  in  th'  wurruld.  That's 
why  I  ain't  a  hero.  If  Hobson  had  intilli- 
gence,  he'd  be  wurrukin'  in  th'  post-office; 


LIEUTENANT  HOBSON      217 

an',  if  anny  ol'  hin  thrled  to  kiss  him,  he  'd 
call  f 'r  th'  polis.  Bein'  young  an'  foolish, 
whin  me  frind  Sampson  says,  '  Is  there  anny 
man  here  that  '11  take  this  ol'  coal  barge  in 
beyant  an'  sink  it,  an'  save  us  th'  throuble  iv 
dhrownin'  on  our  way  home?'  Loot  Hob- 
son  says,  says  he  :  '  Here  I  am,  Cap,'  says 
he.  '  I'll  take  it  in,'  he  says,  '  an'  seal  up 
th'  hated  Castiles,'  he  says,  '  so  that  they  can 
niver  get  out,'  he  says.  '  But,'  he  says,  '  I'll 
lave  a  hole  f 'r  thim  to  get  out  whin  they 
want  to  get  out,'  he  says.  An'  he  tuk  some 
other  la-ads, —  I  f'rget  their  names, —  they 
wasn't  heroes,  annyhow,  but  was  wurrukin' 
be  th'  day ;  an'  he  wint  in  in  his  undher- 
clothes,  so's  not  to  spoil  his  suit,  an'  th'  Cas- 
tiles hurled  death  an'  desthruction  on  him. 
An'  it  niver  touched  him  no  more  thin  it  did 
anny  wan  else  ;  an'  thin  they  riscued  him  fr'm 
himsilf,  an'  locked  him  up  in  th'  polis  sta- 
tion an'  fed  him  th'  best  they  knew  how.  An' 
he  wint  on  a  lecther  tour,  an'  here  he  is.  Be 
hivins,  I  think  he's  more  iv  a  hero  now  thin 
iver  he  was.      I'd  stand  up  befure  a  cross- 


2i8      LIEUTENANT  HOBSON 

eyed  Spanish  gunner  an'  take  his  shootin' 
without  a  mask  mesilf;  but  Ed  shy  hard  if 
anny  ol'  heifer  come  up,  an'  thried  to  kiss 
me. 

"  On  th'  flure  iv  th'  *  Mercimac,'  in  his 
Hght  undherclothes,  Loot  Hobson  was  a 
sthrong,  foolish  man.  On  th'  stage  iv  th' 
Audjitooroom,  bein'  caressed  be  women 
that  'd  kiss  th'  Indyun  in  front  iv  a  see-gar 
sthore,  if  he  didn't  carry  a  tommyhawk,  he's 
still  foolish,  but  not  sthrong.  'Tis  so  with  all 
heroes.  Napolyeon  Bonyparte,  th'  Impror 
iv  th'  Fr-rinch,  had  manny  carryin's  on,  Eve 
heerd  tell ;  an'  ivry  man  knows  that,  whin 
Jawn  Sullivan  wasn't  in  th'  r-ring,  he  was  no 
incyclopedja  f 'r  intilligence.  No  wan  thried 
to  kiss  him,  though.     They  knew  betther. 

"  An'  Hobson  '11  larn.  He's  young  yet, 
th'  Loot  is  ;  an'  he's  goin'  out  to  th'  Ph'lip- 
peens  to  wurruk  f 'r  Cousin  George.  Cousin 
George  is  no  hero,  an'  'tisn't  on  record  that 
anny  wan  iver  thried  to  scandalize  his  good 
name  be  kissin'  him.  Ed  as  lave,  if  I  was 
a  foolish  woman,  which,  thanks  be,  Em  not, 


LIEUTENANT  HOBSON      219 

hug  a  whitehead  torpedo  as  Cousin  George. 
He'll  be  settin'  up  on  th'  roof  iv  his  boat, 
smokin'  a  good  see-gar,  an'  wondhrin'  how 
manny  iv  th'  babbies  named  afther  him  '11 
be  in  th'  pinitinchry  be  th'  time  he  gets  back 
home.  Up  comes  me  br-rave  Hobson. 
*Who  ar-re  ye,  disturbin'  me  quite?'  says 
Cousin  George.  '  I'm  a  hero,'  says  th'  Loot. 
'  Ar-re  ye,  faith  ? '  says  Cousin  George. 
'  Well,'  he  says, '  I  can't  do  annything  f 'r  ye 
in  that  line,'  he  says.  '  All  th'  hero  jobs  on 
this  boat,'  he  says,  '  is  compitintly  filled,'  he 
says,  '  be  mesilf,'  he  says.  ^  I  like  to  see  th' 
wurruk  well  done,'  he  says,  '  so,'  he  says,  '  I 
don't  thrust  it  to  anny  wan,'  he  says.  '  With 
th'  aid  iv  a  small  boy,  who  can  shovel  more 
love  letthers  an'  pothry  overboard  thin  anny 
wan  I  iver  see,'  he  says,  '  I'm  able  to  clane 
up  me  hero  business  befure  noon  ivry  day,' 
he  says.  '  What's  ye'er  name  ? '  he  says. 
'  Hobson,'  says  th'  loot.  '  Niver  heerd  iv 
ye,  says  Cousin  George.  *  Where'd  ye 
wurruk  last?'  'Why,'  says  th'  Loot,  'I'm 
th'  man  that  sunk  th'   ship,'   he  says ;  '  an* 


220      LIEUTENANT  HOBSON 

I've  been  kissed  be  hundherds  Iv  women  at 
home,'  he  says.  '  Is  that  so?'  says  Cousin 
George,  *  Well,  I  don't  b'lieve  in  sinkin' 
me  own  ship,'  he  says.  ''Whin  I'm  lookin' 
f 'r  a  divarsion  iv  that  kind,  I  sink  somebody 
else's,'  he  says.  '  'Tis  cheaper.  As  f 'r  th' 
other  thing,'  he  says,  '  th'  less  ye  say  about 
that,  th'  betther,'  he  says.  '  If  some  iv  these 
beauchious  Ph'lippeen  belles  ar-round  here 
hears,'  he  says,  *that  ye're  in  that  line,  they 
may  call  on  ye  to  give  ye  a  chaste  salute,'  he 
says,  '  an','  he  says,  '  f'rget,'  he  says,  'to  take 
th'  see-gars  out  iv  their  mouths,'  he  says. 
*  Ye  desthroyed  a  lot  iv  coal,  ye  tell  me,'  he 
says.  '  Do  ye,'  he  says,  'go  downstairs  now, 
an'  shovel  up  a  ton  or  two  iv  it,'  he  says. 
'  Afther  which,'  he  says,  '  ye  can  roll  a  kag 
iv  beer  into  me  bedroom,'  he  says;  '  f 'r  'tis 
dhry  wurruk  settin'  up  here  watchin'  ixpan- 
sion  ixpand,'  he  says. 

"  That's  what  Cousin  George'll  say  to  th' 
Loot.  An',  whin  th'  Loot  comes  back,  he 
won't  be  a  hero  anny  more ;  an',  if  anny 
woman    thries    to    kiss    him,    he'll    climb    a 


LIEUTENANT  HOBSON      221 

three.  Cousin  George'll  make  a  man  iv 
him.  'Tis  kicks,  not  kisses,  that  makes  men 
iv  heroes." 

"  Well,  mebbe  ye're  r-right,"  said  Mr. 
Hennessy.  "  He's  nawthin'  but  a  kid,  an- 
nyhow, —  no  oldher  thin  me  oldest  boy  ;  an' 
I  know  what  a  fool  he'd  be  if  anny  wan  ast 
him  to  be  more  iv  a  fool  thin  he  is.  Hob- 
son  '11  be  famous,  no  matther  what  foolish 
things  he  does." 

"  1  dinnaw,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.  "It  was 
headed  f'r  him;  but  I'm  afraid,  as  th'  bull- 
yard  players  'd  say,  fame's  been  kissed 
off." 


THE  DECLINE  OF  NATIONAL 
FEELING. 

"  What  ar-re  ye  goin'  to  do  Patrick's 
Day  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Hennessy. 

"  Patrick's  Day  ?  "  said  Mr.  Dooley. 
"Patrick's  Day?  It  seems  to  me  I've 
heard  th'  name  befure.  Oh,  ye  mane  th' 
day  th'  low  Irish  that  hasn't  anny  votes 
cillybrates  th'  birth  iv  their  naytional  saint, 
who  was  a  Fr-rinchman." 

"Ye  know  what  I  mane,"  said  Mr.  Hen- 
nessy, with  rising  wrath.  "  Don't  ye  get 
gay  with  me  now." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  I  may  cilly- 
brate  it  an'  I  may  not.  I'm  thinkin'  iv 
savin'  me  enthusyasm  f  r  th'  queen's  birth- 
day, whiniver  it  is  that  that  blessid  holiday 
comes  ar-round.  Ye  see,  Hinnissy,  Pa- 
trick's Day  is  out  iv  fashion  now.  A  few 
years  ago  ye'd  see  the  Prisident  iv  th'  United 
States  marchin'  down  Pinnsylvanya  Avnoo, 
with  the  green  scarf  iv  th'  Ancient  Ordher 
on  his  shoulders  an'  a  shamrock  in  his  hat. 


THE  DECLINE  223 

Now  what  is  Mack  doin' ?  He's  settin'  in 
his  parlor,  writin'  letthers  to  th'  queen,  be 
hivins,  askin'  afther  her  health.  He  was 
fr'm  th'  north  iv  Ireland  two  years  ago,  an' 
not  so  far  north  ayether, — just  far  enough 
north  f 'r  to  be  on  good  terms  with  Derry 
an'  not  far  enough  to  be  bad  frinds  with 
Limerick.  He  was  raised  on  butthermilk 
an'  haggis,  an'  he  dhrank  his  Irish  nate  with 
a  dash  iv  orange  bitthers  in  it.  He's  been 
movin'  steadily  north  since  ;  an',  if  he  keeps 
on  movin',  he'll  go  r-round  th'  globe,  an' 
bring  up  somewhere  in  th'  south  iv  England. 
"An'  Hinnery  Cabin  Lodge!  I  used  to 
think  that  Hinnery  would  niver  die  con- 
tint  till  he'd  took  th'  Prince  iv  Wales  be  th' 
hair  iv  th'  head, —  an'  'tis  little  th'  poor 
man's  got, —  an'  dhrag  him  fr'm  th'  tower  iv 
London  to  Kilmainham  Jail,  an'  hand  him 
over  to  th'  tindher  mercies,  as  Hogan  says, 
iv  Michael  Davitt.  Thim  was  th'  days 
whin  ye'd  hear  Hinnery  in  th'  Sinit,  spread- 
in'  fear  to  th'  hear-rts  iv  th'  British  aristoc- 
racy.     '  Gintlemen,'    he    says,    '  an'    fellow- 


224  THE  DECLINE 

sinitors,  th'  time  has  come,'  he  says,  *  whin 
th'  eagle  burrud  iv  freedom,'  he  says,  *  lavin',' 
he  says,  *  its  home  in  th'  mountains,'  he  says, 
*  an'  circlin','  he  says,  *  undher  th'  jool'd 
hivin,'  he  says,  '  fr'm  where,'  he  says,  *  th' 
Passamaquoddy  rushes  into  Lake  Erastus  K. 
Ropes,'  he  says,  '  to  where  rowls  th'  Ore- 
gon,' he  says,  '  fr'm  th'  lakes  to  th'  gulf,'  he 
says,  '  fr'm  th'  Atlantic  to  th'  Passific  where 
rowls  th'  Oregon,'  he  says,  *  an'  fr'm  ivry 
American  who  has  th'  blood  iv  his  ances- 
thors'  hathred  iv  tyranny  in  his  veins, —  your 
ancesthors  an'  mine,  Mr.  McAdoo,'  he  says, 
— '  there  goes  up  a  mute  prayer  that  th'  na- 
tion as  wan  man,  fr'm  Bangor,  Maine,  to 
where  rowls  th'  Oregon,  that,'  he  says,  *  is 
full  iv  salmon,  v/hich  is  later  put  up  in  cans, 
but  has  th'  same  inthrest  as  all  others  in  this 
question,'  he  says,  '  that,'  he  says,  '  th'  de- 
scindants  iv  Wash'nton  an','  he  says,  '  iv 
Immitt,'  he  says,  'will  jine  hands  f'r  to  pro- 
tect,' he  says,  '  th'  codfisheries  again  th' 
Vandal  hand  iv  th'  British  Hne,'  he  says.  '  I 
therefore  move  ye,  Mr.  Prisident,  that  it  i? 


THE  DECLINE  125 

th'  sinse  iv  this  house,  If  anny  such  there 
be,  that  Tay  Pay  O'Connor  is  a  greater 
man  thin  Lord  Salisberry,'  he  says. 

"Now  where's  Hinnery?  Where's  th' 
bould  Fenian  ?  Where's  th'  moonlighter  ? 
Where's  th'  pikeman  ?  Faith,  he's  changed 
his  chune,  an'  'tis  '  Sthrangers  wanst,  but 
brothers  now,'  with  him,  an'  ^  Hands  acrost 
th'  sea  an'  into  some  wan's  pocket,'  an' 
*Take  up  th'  white  man's  burden  an'  hand 
it  to  th'  coons,'  an'  'An  open  back  dure  an'  a 
closed  fr-ront  dure.'  'Tis  th'  same  with  all 
iv  thim.  They'se  me  frind  Joe  Choate. 
Where'd  Joe  spind  th'  night?  Whisper,  in 
Windsor  Castle,  no  less,  in  a  night-shirt  iv 
th'  Prince  iv  Wales  ;  an'  the  nex'  mornin', 
whin  he  come  downstairs,  they  tol'  him  th' 
rile  fam'ly  was  late  risers,  but,  if  he  wanted 
a  good  time,  he  cud  go  down  an'  look  at  th' 
cimit'ry  !  An'  he  done  it.  He  went  out 
an'  wept  over  th'  grave  iv  th'  Father  iv  his 
Counthry.  Ye'er  man,  George  Washington, 
Hinnissy,  was  on'y  th'  stepfather. 

"Well,  glory  be,  th'  times  has   changed 


226  THE  DECLINE 

since  me  frind  Jawn  FInerty  come  out  iv  th' 
House  iv  Riprisintatives ;  an',  whin  some 
wan  ast  him  what  was  goin'  on,  he  says, 
'  Oh,  nawthin'  at  all  but  some  damned  Amer- 
ican business.'  Thim  was  th'  days !  An' 
what's  changed  thim  ?  Well,  I  might  be 
sayin'  'twas  like  wanst  whin  me  cousin  Mike 
an'  a  Kerry  man  be  th'  name  iv  Sullivan  had 
a  gredge  again  a  man  named  Doherty,  that 
was  half  a  Kerry  man  himsilf.  They  kept 
Doherty  indures  f  'r  a  day,  but  by  an'  by 
me  cousin  Mike  lost  inthrest  in  th'  gredge, 
havin'  others  that  was  newer,  an'  he  wint 
over  to  th'  ya-ards  ;  an'  Doherty  an'  Sulli- 
van begin  to  bow  to  each  other,  an'  afther  a 
while  they  found  that  they  were  blood  rela- 
tions, an',  what's  closer  thin  that  whin  ye're 
away  fr'm  home,  townies.  An'  they  hooked 
arms,  an'  sthrutted  up  an'  down  th'  road, 
as  proud  as  imprors.  An'  says  they,  '  We 
can  lick  annything  in  th'  ward,'  says  they. 
But,  befure  they  injyed  th'  'lieance  f 'r  long, 
around  th'  corner  comes  me  cousin  Mike, 
with    a    half-brick    in    each    hand ;    an'    me 


THE  DECLINE  227 

brave  Sullivan  gives  Doherty  th'  Kerry 
man's  thrip,  an'  says  he,  *  Mike,'  he  says, 
'  I  was  on'y  puUin'  him  on  to  give  ye  a 
crack  at  him,'  he  says.  An'  they  desthroyed 
Doherty,  so  that  he  was  in  bed  f 'r  a  week." 

"  Well,  I  wondher  will  Mike  come  back  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Hennessy. 

"  Me  cousin  Mike,"  said  Mr.  Dooley, 
"  niver  missed  an  iliction.  An'  whin  th' 
campaign  opened,  there  wasn't  a  man  on  th' 
ticket,  fr'm  mayor  to  constable,  that  didn't 
claim  him  f 'r  a  first  cousin.  There  are  dif- 
ferent kinds  iv  hands  from  acrost  th'  sea. 
There  are  pothry  hands  an'  rollin'-mill 
hands ;  but  on'y  wan  kind  has  votes." 


"CYRANO    DE    BERGERAC." 

"  IvRY  winter  Hogan's  la-ad  gives  a  show 
with  what  he  calls  th'  Sixth  Wa-ard  Shak- 
spere  an'  Willum  J.  Bryan  Club,  an'  I  was 
sayjooced  into  goin'  to  wan  las'  night  at 
Finucane's  hall,"  said  Mr.  Dooley. 

"Th'  girls  was  goin',"  said  Mr.  Hennessy; 
"  but  th'  sthovepipe  come  down  on  th' 
pianny,  an'  we  had  a  minsthrel  show  iv  our 
own.     What  was  it  about,  I  dinnaw  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  "  I  ain't 
much  on  th'  theayter.  I  niver  wint  to  wan 
that  I  didn't  have  to  stand  where  I  cud  see 
a  man  in  blue  overalls  scratchin'  his  leg  just 
beyant  where  the  heeroyne  was  prayin'  on 
th'  palace  stairs,  an'  I  don't  know  much 
about  it ;  but  it  seemed  to  me,  an'  it  seemed 
to  Hartigan,  th'  plumber,  that  was  with  me, 
that  'twas  a  good  play  if  they'd  been  a  fire 
in  th'  first  act.  They  was  a  lot  iv  people 
there ;  an',  if  it  cud  've  been  arranged  f 'r  to 
have  injine  company  fifteen  with  Cap'n 
Duffy  at  th'  head  iv  thim  come  in  through 


"CYRANO  DE  BERGERAC"  229 

a  window  an'  carry  off  th'  crowd,  'twud  've 
med  a  hit  with  me. 

"  'Tis  not  like  anny  play  I  iver  see  befure 
or  since.  In  *  Tur-rble  Tom;  or,  th'  Boys 
iv  Ninety-eight,'  that  I  see  wanst,  th'  man 
that's  til'  main  guy  Iv  th'  thing  he  waits  till 
ivry  wan  has  said  what  he  has  to  say,  an'  he 
has  a  clean  field;  an'  thin  he  jumps  in  as  th' 
man  that  plays  th'  big  dhrum  gives  it  an 
upper  cut.  But  with  this  here  play  iv  *  Cyrus 
O'Bergerac'  'tis  far  difF'rent.  Th'  curtain 
goes  up  an'  shows  Bill  Delaney  an'  little 
Tim  Scanlan  an'  Mark  Toolan  an'  Packy 
Dugan,  that  wurruks  in  the  shoe  store,  an' 
Molly  Donahue  an'  th'  Casey  sisters,  thim 
that  scandalized  th'  parish  be  doin'  a  skirt 
dance  at  th'  fair,  all  walkin'  up  an'  down 
talkin'.  '  Tin  to  wan  on  Sharkey,'  says 
Toolan.  *  I  go  ye,  an'  make  it  a  hundherd,' 
says  Tim  Scanlan.  '  Was  ye  at  th'  cake 
walk  ? '  '  Who  stole  me  hat  ? '  '  Cudden't 
ye  die  waltzin'  ? '  *  They  s'ay  Murphy  has 
gone  on  th'  foorce.'  '  Hivins,  there  goes  th' 
las'  car  ! '     '  Pass  th'  butther,  please  :  I'm  far 


230  "CYRANO  DE  BERGERAC" 

fr'm  home.'  All  iv  thim  talkin'  away  at 
once,  niver  carin'  f'r  no  wan,  whin  all  at 
wanst  up  stheps  me  bold  Hogan  with  a  nose 
on  him, —  glory  be,  such  a  nose!  I  niver 
see  th'  like  on  a  man  or  an  illyphant. 

"Well,  sir,  Hogan  is  Cy  in  th'  play;  an' 
th'  beak  is  pa-art  iv  him.  What  does  he 
do  ?  He  goes  up  to  Toolan,  an'  says  he  : 
'Ye  don't  like  me  nose.  It's  an  ilicthric 
light  globe.  Blow  it  out.  It's  a  Swiss 
cheese.  Cut  it  off,  if  ye  want  to.  It's  a 
brick  in  a  hat.  Kick  it.  It's  a  balloon. 
Hang  a  basket  on  it,  an'  we'll  have  an'  ascin- 
sion.  It's  a  dure-bell  knob.  Ring  it.  It's 
a  punchin'  bag.  Hit  it,  if  ye  dahr.  F  'r 
two  pins  I'd  push  in  th'  face  iv  ye.'  An', 
mind  ye,  Hinnissy,  Toolan  had  said  not 
wan  wurrud  about  th'  beak, —  not  wan 
wurrud.  An'  ivry  wan  in  th'  house  was 
talkin'  about  it,  an'  wondhrin'  whin  it'd  come 
off  an'  smash  somewan's  fut.  I  looked  f'r 
a  fight  there  an'  thin.  But  Toolan's  a  poor- 
spirited  thing,  an'  he  wint  away.  At  that  up 
comes   Scanlan ;    an'    says   he :  '  Look   here. 


"CYRANO  DE  BERGERAC"  231 

young  fellow,'  he  says,  '  don't  get  gay,'  he 
says,  '  don't  get  gay,'  he  says.  '  What's 
that  ? '  says  Hogan.  Whin  a  man  says, 
*  What's  that  ? '  in  a  bar-room,  it  manes 
a  fight,  if  he  says  it  wanst.  If  he  says 
it  twict,  it  manes  a  fut  race.  '  I  say,' 
says  Scanlan,  *  that,  if  ye  make  anny  more 
funny  cracks,  I'll  hitch  a  horse  to  that  basket 
fender,'  he  says,  '  an'  dhrag  it  fr'm  ye,'  he 
says.  At  that  Hogan  dhrew  his  soord,  an' 
says  he  :  *  Come  on,'  he  says,  *  come  on,  an' 
take  a  lickin,'  he  says.  An'  Scanlan  dhrew 
his  soord,  too.  '  Wait,'  says  Hogan.  '  Wait 
a  minyit,'  he  says.  '  I  must  think,'  he  says. 
'  I  must  think  a  pome,'  he  says.  '  Whiniver 
I  fight,'  he  says,  '  I  always  have  a  pome,' 
he  says.  '  Glory  be,'  says  I,  '  there's  Scan- 
lan's  chanst  to  give  it  to  him,'  I  says.  But 
Scanlan  was  as  slow  as  a  dhray  ;  an',  befure  he 
cud  get  action,  Hogan  was  at  him,  I'adin' 
with  th'  pome  an'  counthrin'  with  the  soord. 
'  I'll  call  this  pome,'  he  says,  '  a  pome  about 
a  gazabo  I  wanst  had  a  dool  with  in  Finu- 
cane's  hall,'  he  says.     'I'll  threat  ye  r-right,' 


232  "CYRANO  DE  BERGERAC  " 

he  says,  '  an'  at  the  last  Hne  I'll  hand  ye 
wan,'  he  says.  An'  he  done  it.  '  Go  in,' 
he  says  in  th'  pome,  'go  in  an  do  ye'er 
worst,'  he  says.  '  I  make  a  pass  at  ye'er 
stomach,'  he  says,  '  1  cross  ye  with  me 
right,'  he  says ;  '  an,'  he  says  at  th'  last  line, 
he  says,  '  I  soak  ye,'  he  says.  An'  he  done 
it.  Th'  minyit  'twas  over  with  th'  pome 
'twas  off  with  Scanlan.  Th'  soord  wint  into 
him,  an'  he  sunk  down  to  th'  flure ;  an'  they 
had  to  carry  him  off.  Well,  sir,  Hogan  was 
that  proud  ye  cudden't  hold  him  f'r  th' 
rest  iv  th'  night.  He  wint  around  ivry- 
where  stickin'  people  an'  soakin'  thim  with 
pothry.  He's  a  gr-reat  pote  is  this  here 
Hogan,  an'  a  gr-reat  fighter.  He  done  thim 
all  at  both  ;  but,  like  me  ol'  frind  Jawn  L.,  he 
come  to  th'  end.  A  man  dhropped  a  two- 
be-four  on  his  head  wan  day,  an'  he  died. 
Honoria  Casey  was  with  him  as  he  passed 
away,  an'  she  says,  '  How  d'ye  feel  ? '  '  All 
right,'  says  Hogan.  '  But  wan  thing  I'll 
tell  ye  has  made  life  worth  livin','  he  says. 
*  What's  that  ? '  says  Miss  Casey.     '  I  know,' 


"CYRANO  DE  BERGERAC  "  2^3 

says  I.  *  Annywan  cud  guess  it.  He  manes 
his  nose,'  I  says.  But  ivrywan  on  th'  stage 
give  it  up.  '  Ye  don't  know,'  says  Hogan. 
*  'Tis  me  hat,'  he  says  ;  an',  makin  a  low  bow 
to  th'  audjence,  he  fell  to  th'  flure  so  hard 
that  his  nose  fell  off  an'  rowled  down  on 
Mike  Finnegan.  '  I  don't  like  th'  play,' 
says  Finnegan,  'an'  I'll  break  ye'er  nose,'  he 
says;  an'  he  done  it.  He's  a  wild  divvle. 
Hogan  thried  to  rayturn  th'  compliment  on 
th'  sidewalk  afterward  ;  but  he  cudden't  think 
iv  a  pome,  an'  Finnegan  done  him." 

"  Well,  said  Mr.  Hennessy,  "  I'd  like 
to've  been  there  to  see  th'  fightin'." 

"In  th'  play?  "  asked  Mr.  Dooley. 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Hennessy.  "On  th' 
sidewalk." 


THE  UNION  OF  TWO  GREAT 
FORTUNES. 

"  They'se  wan  thing  that  always  makes 
me  feel  sure  iv  what  Hogan  calls  th'  safety 
iv  our  dimmycratic  institutions,"  said  Mr. 
Dooley,  "an'  that's  th'  intherest  th'  good 
people  iv  New  York  takes  in  a  weddin'  iv  th' 
millyionaires.  Anny  time  a  millyionaire  con- 
discinds  to  enther  th'  martial  state,  as  Hogan 
says,  an',  as  Hogan  says,  make  vows  to 
Hyman,  which  is  the  Jew  god  iv  marredge, 
he  can  fill  th'  house  an'  turn  people  away 
fr'm  th'  dure.  An'  he  does.  Th'  sthreets  is 
crowded.  Th'  cars  can  har'ly  get  through. 
Th'  polls  foorce  is  out,  an'  hammerin'  th' 
heads  iv  th'  delighted  throng.  Riprisinta- 
tives  iv  th'  free  an'  inlightened  press,  th' 
pollutyem  iv  our  liberties,  as  Hogan  says, 
bright,  intilligent  young  journalists,  iver 
ready  to  probe  fraud  an'  sham,  disgeesed 
as  waithers,  is  dashin'  madly  about,  makin' 
notes  on  their  cuffs.  Business  is  suspinded. 
They'se  no  money  in  Wall  Sthreet.     It's  all 


TWO  GREAT  FORTUNES    235 

at  th'  sacred  scene.  Hour  be  hour,  as  th' 
prisints  ar-re  delivered,  th'  bank  rates  go  up. 
Th'  Threeasury  Departmint  has  to  go  on  a 
silver  basis,  there  bein'  no  goold  to  manny- 
facther  into  plunks. 

"  Inside  th'  house  th*  prisints  cast  a 
goolden  gleam  on  th'  beauchious  scene.  Th' 
happy  father  is  seen  seated  at  a  table,  dictat- 
tin'  millyion-doUar  checks  to  a  stinographer. 
Th*  goold  chandeliers  is  draped  with  r-ropes 
iv  dimon's  an'  pearls.  Th'  hired  girl  is 
passin'  dhrinks  in  goolden  goblets.  Twinty 
firemen  fr'm  th'  New  York  Cinthral  Railroad 
is  shovellin'  di'mon'-studded  pickle  crutes 
into  th'  back  yard,  among  th'  yachts  an' 
horses.  Chansy  Depoo  enthers  an'  thrips 
over  a  box  iv  bonds.  '  Ar-re  these  th'  holy 
bonds  iv  mathrimony  ? '  he  says  ;  f  r  he  is  a 
wild  divvle,  an'  ye  can't  stop  his  jokin',  avin 
on  solemn  occasions. 

"  Th'  soggarth  comes  in  afther  a  while, 
carryin'  a  goold  prayer-book,  th'  gift  iv  th' 
Rothscheelds,  an'  stands  behind  a  small  but 
v-alyable  pree  Doo.     To  th'  soft,  meelojous 


^1^6    TWO  GREAT  FORTUNES 

chune  iv  th'  Wagner  Palace  Weddin'  March 
fr'm  '  Long  Green,'  th'  groom  enthers,  simply 
but  ixpinsively  attired  in  governmint  fours, 
an'  fannin'  himsilf  with  a  bunch  Iv  first  mor- 
gedge  bonds. 

"Th'  prayers  f'r  th'  occasion,  printed  on 
negotyable  paper,  is  disthributed  among  th' 
guests.  Th'  bride  was  delayed  be  th'  crowd 
outside.  Women  screamed  an'  waved  their 
handkerchefs,  sthrong  men  cheered  an'  wept ; 
an'  'twas  not  until  th'  polls  had  clubbed  tin 
hardy  pathrites  to  death  that  th'  lady  cud 
enther  th'  house  where  her  fate  was  to  be 
sealed.  But  fin'Uy  she  med  it;  an'  th'  two 
happy,  happy  childher,  whose  sunshiny 
youth  riprisinted  five  thousan'  miles  iv 
thrack,  eight  goold  mines,  wan  hundherd 
millyion  dollars'  worth  iv  rollin'  stock,  an' 
a  majority  intherest  in  th'  Chicago  stock 
yards,  was  r-ready  f'r  th'  nicissary  thransfers 
that  wud  establish  th'  com-bination.     - 

"  Th'  ceremony  was  brief,  but  intherestin*. 
Th'  happy  father  foorced  his  way  through 
dimon'  stomachers  ;  an'  they  was  tears  in  his 


TWO  GREAT  FORTUNES    237 

eyes  as  he  handed  th'  clargyman,  whose  name 
was  Murphy, —  but  he  carried  himsilf  as 
well  as  if  he  was  used  to  it, —  handed  him  a 
check  f 'r  tin  millyion  dollars.  I  don't  blame 
him.  Divvle  th'  bit !  Me  own  hear-rt  is 
har-rd  an'  me  eyes  ar-re  dhry,  but  I'd  break 
down  if  I  had  to  hand  anny  wan  that  much. 
'  I  suppose  th'  check  is  good,'  says  th'  clar- 
gyman. '  'Tis  certified,'  says  th'  weepin' 
father.  '  Do  ye  take  this  check,'  says  th' 
clargyman,  '  to  have  an'  to  hold,  until  some 
wan  parts  ye  fr'm  it  ^ '  he  says.  '  I  do,'  says 
th'  young  man.  '  Thin,'  says  th'  clargyman, 
'  I  see  no  reason  why  ye  shudden't  be  mar- 
rid  an'  live  comfortable,'  he  says.  An'  marrid 
they  were,  in  th'  same  ol'  foolish  way  that 
people's  been  marrid  in  f 'r  cinchries.  'Tis  a 
wondher  to  me  th'  ceremony  ain't  changed. 
Th'  time  is  comin',  Hinnissy,  whin  mill- 
'ionaires  '11  not  be  marrid  be  Father  Mur- 
phy, but  be  th  gov'nors  iv  th*  stock  ex- 
change. They'll  be  put  through  th'  clearin' 
house,  me  faith,  an'  securities  '11  be  issued 
be    th'    combination.      Twinty-year,   goold- 


238    TWO  GREAT  FORTUNES 

secured,  four  per  cint.  bonds  iv  mathrimony  ! 
Aha,  'tis  a  joke  that  Chansy  Depoo  might  've 
med ! 

"  Th'  crowd  outside  waited,  cheerin'  an' 
fightin'  th'  poHs.  In  this  here  land  iv  lib- 
erty an'  akequality,  Hinnissy,  ivry  man  is  as 
good  as  ivry  other  man,  except  a  polisman. 
An'  it  showed  how  thrue  th'  people  in  New 
York  is  to  th'  thraditions  iv  Jefferson  that 
divvle  a  wan  iv  thim  'd  move  away  till  th' 
check  'd  been  passed  fr'm  father  to  son,  an' 
th'  important  part  iv  th'  sacred  ceremony 
was  over.  Thin  a  few  iv  thim  wint  home  to 
cook  dinner  f 'r  their  husbands,  who  was  pre- 
vinted  be  their  jooties  at  th'  gas-house  fr'm 
attindin'  th'  function.  Th'  rest  raymained 
an'  see  th'  two  gr-reat  fortunes  get  into  their 
carredge,  pursued  be  th'  guests  to  th'  amount 
iv  five  hundhred  millyions,  peltin'  thim  with 
seed  pearls." 

"Sure,"  said  Mr.  Hennessy,  "mebbe 
'twasn't  as  bad  as  th'  pa-apers  let  on.  Ye 
can't  always  thrust  thim." 

"P'rhaps  not,"  said  Mr.  Dooley.     "Th' 


TWO  GREAT  FORTUNES    239 

pa-apers  say,  *  Two  gr-reat  fortunes  united  ' ; 
an',  if  that's  it,  they  didn't  need  th'  sarvices 
iv  a  priest,  but  a  lawyer  an'  a  thrust  com- 
p'ny.  P'rhaps,  with  all  th'  certyfied  checks, 
'twas  two  rale  people  that  was  marrid  ;  an',  if 
that's  so,  it  explains  th'  prisince  if  Father 
Murphy." 


THE    DREYFUS    CASE. 
I. 

"  Th'  scene  was  treemenjously  excitin'. 
Th'  little  city  iv  Rennes  was  thronged  with 
des'prit  journalists  that  had  pledged  their 
fortunes  an'  their  sacred  honors,  an'  manny 
iv  thim  their  watches,  to  be  prisint  an'  pro- 
tect th'  public  again  th'  degradin'  facts. 
Niver  since  th'  war  in  Cubia  has  so  manny 
iv  these  brave  fellows  been  gathered  together 
at  th'  risk  iv  their  lives  fr'm  overcrowdin' 
th'  resthrants.  No  wan  has  iver  sufficiently 
described  th'  turrors  iv  a  corryspondint's  life 
excipt  th'  corryspondints  thimsilves.  Gin'- 
rals  an'  other  liars  is  rewarded.  Th'  cor- 
rvspondint  gets  no  credit.  No  wan  will 
give  him  credit.  Still  he  sticks  to  his  post ; 
an'  on  this  pearlous  day  he  was  at  Rennes, 
iightin'  th'  other  corryspondints,  or,  if  he 
was  an  English  journalist,  defindin'  th'  honor 
iv  Fr-rance  again  hersilf  'Tis  a  good  thing 
for  Fr-rance  that  there  ar-re  silf-sacrificin' 
men    that   don't  undherstand   her  language. 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         241 

to  presint  her  vicious  nature  to  th'  English 
an'  American  public.  Otherwise,  Hinnissy, 
she  might  think  she  was  as  good  as  th'  rest 
iv  us. 

"  Well,  while  th'  sthreets  in  Rennes  was 
packed  with  these  dauntless  souls,  ar-rmed 
with  death-dealin'  kodaks,  there  was  a  com- 
motion near  th'  coort-house.  Was  it  a  rivo- 
lution?  Was  this  th'  beginnin'  iv  another 
Saint  Barth'mew's  Day,  w^hin  th'  degraded 
passions  in  Fr-rance,  pent  up  durin'  three 
hundherd  years,  'd  break  forth  again  ?  Was 
it  th'  signal  iv  another  div'lish  outbreak 
that  'd  show  th'  thrue  nature  iv  th'  Fr-rinch 
people,  disgeezed  behind  a  varnish  iv  ojoous 
poHteness  which  our  waiters  know  nawthin' 
about  ?  No,  alas  !  alas  !  'twas  nawthin'  a  man 
cud  make  more  thin  a  column  iv.  'Twas 
th'  ac-cursed  janitor  goin'  in  to  open  th' 
degraded  windows.  Abase  th'  janitor,  abase 
th'  windows  !  Fear  followed  uncertainty. 
No  wan  knew  what  moment  he  might  be 
called  upon  to  defind  his  life  with  his  honor. 
Suddenly  th'  brutal  polisman  who  sthud  on 


042         THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

gyard  waved  his  hand.  What  cud  the  brave 
men  do  ?  They  were  obHged  to  rethreat 
in  disordher.  But  our  special  corryspondint 
was  able  f  r  to  obtain  a  fine  view  of  th' 
thrillin'  scene  that  followed.  First  came  th' 
coort,  weepin'.  They  was  followed  be  th' 
gin'rals  in  th'  Fr-rinch  ar-rmy,  stalwart,  fear- 
less men,  with  coarse,  disagreeable  faces. 
Each  gin'ral  was  attinded  be  his  private  body- 
gyard  iv  thried  and  thrusted  perjurers,  an* 
was  followed  be  a  wagon-load  iv  forgeries, 
bogus  affidavies,  an'  other  statements  iv 
Major  Estherhazy.  Afther  thim  come  th' 
former  ministers  iv  th'  Fr-rinch  governmint, 
makin'  an  imposin'  line,  which  took  three 
hours  passin'  a  given  point.  As  they 
marched,  it  was  seen  that  they  were  shyly 
kickin'  each  other. 

"  An  interval  iv  silence  followed,  in  which 
cud  be  heard  cries  iv  '■  Abase  Dhryfuss ! '  an' 
'  Abase  Fr-rance  ! '  an'  thin  come  th'  man 
on  whom  th'  lies  iv  all  th'  wurruld  is  cin- 
thred.  Captain  Dhryfuss  plainly  shows  his 
throubles,  which   have   made   him   look  tin 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE        243 

years  younger.  His  raven  hair  is  intirely 
white ;  an'  his  stalwart  frame,  with  th'  shoul- 
ders thrown  back,  is  stooped  an'  weary. 
His  haggard  face  was  flushed  with  insolent 
confidence,  an'  th'  cowa'dice  in  his  face 
showed  in  his  fearless  eye.  As  he  passed, 
a  young  Fr-rinch  sojer  was  with  diff'culty 
resthrained  fr'm  sthrikin'  him  an'  embracin' 
him  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"In  th'  coort-room  th'  scene  baffled  de- 
scription. It  was  an  inspirin'  sight  f'r  th' 
judges,  whin  they  were  awake.  Row  on  row 
iv  journalists,  sharpin'  pencils  an'  slappin' 
each  other's  faces,  r-rose  to  th'  ceilin'.  Here 
an'  there  cud  be  seen  a  brillyant  uniform, 
denotin'  th'  prisince  iv  th'  London  Times  cor- 
ryspondint.  Th'  lawn  behind  th'  coort  was 
thronged  with  ex-mimbers  iv  th'  Fr-rinch 
governmint.  Th'  gin'ral  staff",  bein'  witnesses 
f'r  th'  prosecution,  sat  with  th'  coort:  th* 
prls'ner,  not  bein'  able  to  find  a  chair,  sat  on 
th'  window-sill.  His  inthrest  in  th'  pro- 
ceedin's  was  much  noticed,  an'  caused  gr-reat 
amusement.      Ivrybody  was  talkin'  about  th' 


244        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

mysteryous  lady  in  white.  Who  is  she  ? 
Some  say  she  is  a  Dhryfussard  in  th'  imploy 
iv  Rothscheeld ;  others,  that  she  is  an  agent 
iv  th'  Anti-Semites.  No  wan  has  learned 
her  name.  She  says  she  is  Madame  Lucille 
Gazahs,  iv  wan  hiindherd  an'  eight  Rue  le 
Bombon,  an'  is  a  fav'rite  iv  th'  Fr-rinch 
stage.  She  is  wan  iv  th'  great  mysthries 
iv  this  ree-markable  thrile. 

"  Afther  th'  coort  had  kissed  th'  witnesses, 
th'  proceedin's  opined.  'Tis  thrue,  they 
kiss  each  other.  I  wanst  see  a  Fr-rinchman 
go  f 'r  to  kiss  a  man  be  th'  name  iv  Doherty, 
that  inthrajooced  risolutions  in  favor  iv 
Fr-rance  again  Germany  at  a  convintion. 
Doherty  thought  he  was  afther  his  ear,  an' 
laid  him  out.  But  in  Fr-rance  'tis  diff'rent. 
They  begin  be  kissin',  an'  this  thrile  opined 
this  way. 

"  *  Pris'ner,'  said  th'  prisident  iv  th'  coort, 
'  th'  eyes  iv  Fr-rance  is  upon  us,  th'  honor 
iv  th'  nation  is  at  stake.  Th'  naytional  de- 
finces,  th'  integrity  iv  that  ar-rmy  upon 
which  Fr-rance  must  depind  in  time  iv  peace. 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         245 

th'  virtue  iv  public  life,  an'  th'  receipts  iv 
th'  exposition  is  involved.  Incidentally,  ye 
ar-re  bein'  thried.  But  why  dhrag  in  mat- 
thers  iv  no  importance?  We  ar-re  in- 
sthructed,  accordin'  to  th'  pa-apers,  be  th' 
Coort  iv  Cassation,  to  permit  no  ividince 
that  does  not  apply  to  your  connection  with 
th'  case.  As  sojers,  we  bow  to  th'  superyor 
will.  We  will  follow  out  th'  insthructions  iv 
th'  supreme  coort.  We  have  not  had  time 
to  read  thim,  but  we  will  look  at  thim 
afther  th'  thrile.  In  th'  mane  time  we  will 
call  upon  Gin'ral  Merceer,  that  gallant  man, 
to  tell  us  th'  sthory  iv  his  life.' 

"  *  I  obey,  mon  colonel,'  says  Gin'ral 
Merceer,  kissin'  th'  coort.  'Not  to  begin 
too  far  back,  an'  to  make  a  long  sthory  short, 
I  am  an  honest  man,  an'  th'  son  iv  an  honest 
man.      I  admit  it.' 

"  '  Good,'  says  th'  prisident.  '  D'ye  rec- 
ognize th'  pris'ner?'  'I  do,'  says  Gin'ral 
Merceer,  *  I  seen  him  wanst  dhrinkin'  a  shell 
iv  Munich  beer  in  a  caafe.  [Marked  sen- 
sation in  th'  coort,  an'  cries  iv  '  Abase  la 
bock.'] 


246         THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

"  '  I  says  to  mesilf  thin,  "  This  man  is  a 
thraitor."  But  th'  thrainin'  iv  a  sojer  makes 
wan  cautious.  I  determined  to  fortify  me- 
silf with  ividince.  I  put  spies  on  this  man, 
this  perfiejous  wretch,  an'  discovered  nawthin'. 
I  was  paralyzed.  An  officer  iv  th'  Fr-rinch 
ar-rmy,  an'  nawthin'  suspicyous  about  him  ! 
Damnable!  I  was  with  difficulty  resthrained 
fr'm  killin'  him.  But  I  desisted.  [Cries  iv 
'  Shame!  ']  1  said  to  mesilf:  "Th'  honor  iv 
Fr-rance  is  at  stake.  Th'  whole  wurruld  is 
lookin'  at  me,  at  me.  Bill  Merceer.  I  will 
go  to  bed  an'  think  it  over."  I  wint  to  bed. 
Sleep,  blessed  sleep  that  sews  up  th'  confused 
coat-sleeve  iv  care,  as  th'  perfiejous  Shak- 
spere  [cries  iv  '  Conspuez  Shakspere  ! '] 
says,  dayscinded  on  me  tired  eyes.  [The 
coort  weeps.]  I  laid  aside  me  honor 
[cries  iv  '  Brave  gin'ral ']  with  me  coat 
[murmurs].      1  slept. 

"  *  1  dhreamed  that  I  see  th'  German  Im- 
pror  playin'  a  Jew's-harp.  [Cries  iv  'Abase 
Rothscheeld  ! '  an'  sensation.]  I  woke  with 
a  vi'lent  start,  th'   perspiration   poorin'   fr'm 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         247 

me  rugged  brow.  "  Cap  Dhryfuss  is  guilty," 
I  cried.  But  no,  I  will  confirm  me  ividince. 
1  darted  into  me  r-red  pants.  I  dhruv  with 
fury  to  th'  home  iv  Madame  Cleepathry,  th' 
cilHbrated  Agyptian  asthrologist  an'  med'cin 
woman.  [Th'  coort,  '  We  know  her,  she 
suppHes  ividence  to  all  Fr-rinch  coorts.'J 
I  tol'  her  me  dhream.  She  projoosed  a  pack 
iv  cards.  She  tur-rned  a  r-red  king  an'  a 
black  knave.  "  Th'  Impror  Willum  an'  Cap 
Dhryfuss,"  I  says,  in  a  fury.  I  burst  forth. 
I  had  Cap  Dhryfuss  arristed.  I  dashed  to 
th'  prisident.  He  was  a-receivin'  rayfusals 
f 'r  a  new  cabinet.  "  I  have  found  th'  thrai- 
tor,"  says  I.  "Hush!"  says  he.  "If  th' 
Impror  Willum  hears  ye,  he'll  declare  war," 
he  says.  I  was  stupefied.  "  Oh,  my  beloved 
counthry  !  "  I  cried.  "  Oh,  hivin  !  "  I  cried. 
"  What  shall  I  do  ?  "  I  cried.  They  was 
not  a  minyit  to  lose.  I  disbanded  th' 
ar-rmy.  I  ordhered  th'  navy  into  dhry 
dock.  I  had  me  pitcher  took.  I  wint 
home  an'  hid  in  th'  cellar.  F'r  wan  night 
Fr-rance  was  safe.' 


248         THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

"  They  was  hardly  a  dhry  eye  in  th'  house 
whin  th'  gin'ral  paused.  Th'  coort  wept. 
Th'  audjience  wept.  Siv'ral  of  th'  minor 
journahsts  was  swept  out  iv  th'  room  in  th' 
flood.  A  man  shovellin'  coal  in  th'  cellar 
sint  up  f'r  an  umbrella.  Th'  lawn  shook 
with  th'  convulsive  sobs  iv  th'  former  minis- 
ters. Gin'ral  Merceer  raised  his  damp  face, 
an'  blew  a  kiss  to  a  former  minister  at  wan 
iv  th'  windows,  an'  resumed  his  tistimony." 


THE    DREYFUS    CASE. 
II. 

" '  It  was  about  this  time  or  some  years 
later,'  continues  Gin'ral  Merceer,  'that  I 
received  ividince  iv  th'  Cap's  guilt.  I  made 
it  mesilf.  It  was  a  letter  written  be  me  fr'm 
th'  Cap  to  a  German  grocer,  askin'  f 'r  twinty 
r-rounds  iv  sausage.  [Turmoil  in  the  coort.] 
It  was  impossible,  mon  colonel,  that  this 
here  letter  cud  have  been  written  be  Esther- 
hazy.  In  th'  first  place  he  was  in  Paris  at 
th'  time,  in  th'  sicond  place  he  was  in  Lon- 
don. Th'  letter  is  not  in  his  handwritin', 
but  in  th'  handwritin'  iv  Colonel  Pat  th'  Clam. 
Thin  again  I  wrote  th'  letter  mesilf.  Thin 
who  cud  've  written  it?  It  must  've  been 
Cap  Dhryfuss.  [Cheers  fr'm  th'  coort.] 
I  give  me  reasons  as  they  occurred  to  me  : 
First,  th'  Armeenyan  athrocities ;  sicond,  th' 
risignation  iv  Gin'ral  Alger;  third,  th'  mar- 
riage iv  Prince  Lobengula;  fourth,  th'  scar- 
city iv  sarvint  girls  in  th'  sooburban  towns  ; 
fifth,  th'  price  iv  gas.      [Cries  iv  '  Abase  th' 


250         THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

price  iv  gas  ! ']  I  thank  th'  aujience.  I  will 
raysume  where  I  left  ofF.  I  was  speakin'  iv 
Gin'ral  Guns.  I  met  him  on  th'  sthreet. 
Th'  moon  was  cleai  in  th'  sky.  I  says, 
"  Guns,"  I  says,  "  lave  us  go  down  to 
Hogan's,  an'  I'll  buy  ye  a  tub  iv  obsceen- 
the."  As  we  sthrolled  through  th'  bullyvard, 
I  saw  a  man  that  looked  like  a  German 
dhrivin'  a  cab.  I  was  overcome  with  terror. 
I  ran  madly  home,  followed  be  Guns.  It 
was  a  week  befure  I  cud  hold  a  glass  iv 
obsceenthe  without  spillin'  th'  liquor. 
Shortly  afther  this,  or  it  may've  been  tin 
years  befure,  or  it  may  niver  have  occurred 
[the  coort,  '  Spoken  like  a  Fr-rinchman  an' 
a  sojer'],  in  th'  middle  iv  July  a  man  tol' 
me  that  the  divine  Sara  [wild  an'  continyous 
applause,  cries  iv  '  Sara  foriver  !  ']  was  about 
to  projooce  th'  immortal  play  iv  "  Omlet " 
[cheers]  be  th'  wretched  Shakspere  [hisses] . 
Cud  annything  be  clearer  ?  I  will  detain  th' 
coort  not  longer  thin  a  day  while  I  give  me 
opinyon  on  this  marvellous  performance.' 
"  Cap    Dhryfuss   was    settin'  on  th'  win- 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         251 

dow-bill,  whistlin'  '  Garry  Owen,'  an'  makin' 
faces  at  th'  gallant  corryspondint  iv  th'  Daily 
Wrongs  iv  Man.  At  this  point  he  cried 
out  laughingly :  '  I  will  not  conthradict  th' 
gin'ral.  I  will  say  he  lies.  1  saw  th'  letter 
mesilf,  an'  that  man  was  Esterhazy.'  [Sen- 
sation.] 

" '  Let  me  ask  this  canal  iv  a  Jew  a  ques- 
tion,' says  th'  corryspondint  iv  th'  evening 
Rothscheeld  Roaster,  a  Fr-rinchman  be  th' 
name  iv  Sol  Levi. 

"  '  Ask  it,'  says  Cap  Dhryfuss. 

"  '  You  are  a  despicable  thraitor,'  says  th' 
gallant  corryspondint.      [Sensation.] 

" '  Th'  pris'nor  must  answer,'  says  th' 
coort.  '  It  is  now  nearly  six  o'clock  iv  th' 
mornin',  an'  time  to  get  up  an'  dhress.' 

" '  I  refuse  to  make  anny  commint,'  says 
Cap  Dhryfuss. 

"  The  pris'nor's  remark,  uttered  in  tones 
iv  despair,  caused  gr-reat  emotion  in  th' 
aujience.  There  were  angry  cries  iv  'Lynch 
him  ! '  an'  all  eyes  were  tur-rned  to  th'  Cap. 

"  *  Silence ! '   roared    th'    coort,  bendin'   a 


252        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

stern,  inflexible  look  on  th'  pris'nor.  '  This 
is  a  coort  iv  justice.  We  ar-re  disposed  f 'r 
to  grant  ivry  indulgence  ;  but,  if  outsiders 
persist  in  intherferin'  with  these  proceedin's,' 
he  says,  '  we'll  expel  thim  fr'm  th'  r-room. 
What  does  th'  pris'ner  think  this  is  ?  ' 

" '  I  thought  it  was  a  thrile,'  says  th' 
Cap  ;  '  but,  be  th'  number  iv  vet'ran  jour- 
nalists here,  it  must  be  th'  openin'  iv  a  new 
hotel' 

"  *  Not  another  wurrud,'  says  th'  coort, 
'  or  ye'U  be  fired  out.  No  wan  shall  insult 
th'  honest,  hard-wurrukin',  sober,  sensible 
journalists  iv  Fr-rance.  Not  if  this  coort 
knows  it.  Ye  bet  ye,  boys,  th'  coort  is  with 
ye.  Th'  press  is  th'  pallajeen  iv  our  liber- 
ties. Gin'ral  Merceer  will  raysume  his  tis- 
timony.  He  was  speakin'  of  th'  game  iv 
goluf.' 

"'Perhaps   I'd  betther'sing    it,'   says  th' 

gin'ral. 

"  '  I'll  play  an  accompany  mint  f 'r  ye  on 
th'  flute,'  says  th'  prisident  iv  th'  coort. 
'  While  Gin'ral   Merceer   is   proceedin'   with 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         253 

his  remarks,  call  Colonel  Pat  th'  Clam,  who 
is  sick  an*  can't  come.  Swear  Gin'ral  Billot, 
Gin'ral  Boisdeffer,  Gin'ral  Chammy,  an'  th' 
former  mimbers  iv  th'  governmint.' 

" '  I  object  to  thim  bein'  sworn,'  says 
Matther  Blamange. 

" '  They  must  be  sworn,'  says  th'  prisi- 
dent.  '  How  th'  divvle  can  they  perjure 
thimsilves  if  they  ain't  sworn  ?  An'  who 
ar-re  ye,  annyhow  ?  ' 

"  *  I'm  th'  counsel  f 'r  th'  pris'ner,'  says 
Matther  Blamange.  '  Get  out  ye'ersilf,' 
says  Matther  Blamange.  '  I'm  as  good  a 
man  as  ye  ar-re.  I  will  ask  that  gintle- 
man  who  jest  wint  out  the  dure,  Does  it 
pay  to  keep  up  appearances  ? '      [Groans.] 

"  '  Gin'ral  Billot,'  says  th'  prisident,  *  what 
d'ye  know  about  this  infernal  case  which  is 
broodin'  like  a  nightmare  over  our  belovid 
counthry,  an'  gettin'  us  up  ivry  mornin' 
befiire  milkin'  time  ? ' 

"  '  Nawthin'  at  all,'  says  Gin'ral  Billot. 

"  *  Nayther  do  I,'  says  th'  prisident.  '  But 
I  think  th'  Cap's  guilty.' 


254        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

"  '  I'm  glad  to  hear  ye  say  that/  says  th' 
gin'ral,  '  If  ye  didn't,  I'd  rayjooce  ye  to 
th'  r-ranks  to-morrah.  I  niver  see  th'  man 
befure  ;  an',  be  hivins,  I  don't  want  to  see  him 
again.  But  I  have  a  letter  here  fr'm  him, 
askin'  me  if  he  cud  knock  off  wurruk  at 
four  o'clock   to  go  to  his  aunt's  fun'raL' 

"  '  Cap,'  says  th'  prisident,  '  what  ye  got  to 
say  to  this  ?      Did  ye  write  th'  letter? ' 

"  '  I  did,'  says  th'  Cap. 

"  '  Throw  it  out  thin,'  says  th'  prisident. 
*  We  must  be  guided  be  th'  laws  iv  ividence. 
Th'  witness  will  confine  himself  to  forgeries. 
Have  ye  e'er  a  forgery  about  ye'er  clothes, 
mon  gin'ral  ?  ' 

"  '  I  wish  to  confront  th'  witness,'  says 
Matther  Blamange. 

"  ^  Sit  down,'  "  says  th'  prisident. 

"  '  D'ye  raymimber  meetin'  me  at  dinner 
at  Moosoo  de  Bozoo's.  It  was  years  ago, 
durin'  th'  time  iv  Napolyeon,  befure  th'  big 
fire  ?  If  I  raymimber  right,  we  had  peas. 
Wasn't  it  a  lovely  night?  Oh  dear,  oh 
dear,  gintlemen  iv  th'   press  an'  mon   prisi- 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE        255 

dent,  ye  ought  to  have  been  there.  Well, 
I  says  to  Gin'ral  Billot,  I  says,  "  Gin'ral,"  I 
says,  "  how  ar-re  ye,  annyhow."  An'  the 
gin'ral  replies,  "  F'r  an  ol'  man,  well."  I 
made  up  me  mind  thin  that  th'  Cap  was 
innocent,  an'  this  was  befure  he  was  born. 

"'Me  distinguished  colleague  in  th'  thrile 
iv  this  case,  th'  editor  iv  wan  iv  th'  Paris 
papers,'  says  th'  prisident,  *  has  received  a 
letter  fr'm  th'  military  attachay  or  spy  iv  th' 
Impror  iv  Austhrich,  sayin'  that  he  did  not 
write  th'  letter  referred  to  be  Prisident 
Kruger,  an',  if  he  did,  it's  a  forgery.  But 
what  cud  ye  ixpict  ?  I  will  throw  both  letters 
into  the  secret  dossier.' 

"  '  What's  that  ? '  says  Matther  Blamange. 

"'  It's  a  collection  iv  pomes  wrote  to  th' 
Paris  papers  be  spies,'  says  th'  prisident. 
'  Call  Colonel  Peekhart,  if  th'  others  ar-re 
not  through.  What,  you  again,  Peekhart? 
Set  down,  sir.' 

" '  Gintlemen  iv  Fr-rance,'  says  Colonel 
Peekhart.  '  Unaccustomed  as  I  am  to  pub- 
lic  speakin',   I   wish   to   addhress   ye   a   few 


256        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

wurruds  on  th'  situation  iv  th'  poor  in 
China.' 

"  '  Assassin  ! '  hisses  th'  coort. 

"  '  Canal  ! '  says  Matther  Blamange. 

"  At  this  moment  th'  door  was  burst 
open ;  an'  an  ex-Prisidint  iv  Fr-rance  come 
boundin'  in,  an',  r-rushin'  up  th'  steps  iv  th' 
thrybune,  smacked  Gin'ral  Merceer  in  th' 
eye.  Th'  gr-reatest  rayspict  was  shown  f'r 
th'  former  chief  magistrate  iv  th'  raypublic. 
No  wan  shot  at  him.  He  was  white  with 
rage.  *  Th'  honor  iv  Fr-rance  is  at  stake,' 
he  says.  'Our  counthry  lies  prostrate  in  th' 
mud.  I  must  presarve  th'  dignity  iv  me 
high  office ;  but,  if  Gin'ral  Merceer  will  step 
out  into  th'  back  yard,  I'll  beat  his  head  off. 
I  don't  know  annything  about  this  accursed 
case.  It  was  all  referred  to  me  whin  I  was 
Prisident.  I  am  here  to  see  that  th'  honor 
iv  me  high  office  is  not  assailed.  I  protest 
I  did  not  say  what  an  anonymous  corry- 
spondint  in  to-night's  Sore  says  I  said.  I 
did  me  jooty.  Whin  I  saw  th'  ar-rmy  dis- 
organized an'  Fr-rance  beset  be  foreign  foes. 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE        257 

I  raysigned.  What  was  I  to  do  ?  Was  I 
to  stay  in  office,  an'  have  me  hat  smashed 
in  ivry  time  I  wint  out  to  walk  ?  I  tell  ye, 
gintlemen,  that  office  is  no  signcure.  Until 
hats  are  made  iv  cast  iron,  no  poor  man  can 
be  Prisident  iv  Fr-rance.  But  I  was  not 
speakin'  iv  th'  Dhryfuss  case.' 

"  *  Don't  dare  to  mintion  that  matter  in 
this  coort,'  says  th'  prisident.  *  I'm  sur- 
prised a  man  iv  ye'er  intilligence'd  thry  to 
dhrag  in  exthranyous  matther,  whin  th'  honor 
iv  th'  ar-rmy  is  at  stake.  Gin'ral  Merceer, 
stand  beside  this  witness.  Now  both  speak 
at  wanst !  Annybody  else  that  has  anny- 
thing  to  say,  lave  him  say  it  now,  so  it  won't 
be  heard.' 

"  *  Mon  colonel,'  says  a  former  minister 
iv  th'  Fr-rinch  governmint,  who  was  th' 
polisrnan  at  th'  dure,  '  Judge  Crazy  th' 
Boorepare  is  here,  demandin'  to  be  heard.' 

" '  Gr-reat  hivins  ! '  says  th'  coort ;  an' 
they  wint  out  through  th'  windov/s. 

"  That  night  they  was  gr-reat  excitement 
in  Rennes.      Th'  citizens  dhrivin  home  their 


tr^. 


258         THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

cows  cud  har'ly  make  their  way  through  th' 
excited  throngs  on  th'  sthreet.  Th'  corry- 
spondints  iv  th'  English  papers  do  not  dare 
to  go  to  bed  befure  nine  o'clock  on  account 
iv  rumors  iv  a  gin'ral  massacre.  Madame 
Sara  Bernhardt  gave  a  magnificint  perfor- 
mance at  th'  theaytre,  an'  was  wildly  cheered. 
It  was  believed  in  London,  Budapesth, 
Posen,  New  York,  Cookham,  an'  Upper 
Sandusky  that  Fr-rance  is  about  to  perish. 
As  1  go  to  press,  th'  news  has  excited  no 
commint  in  Fr-rance." 


THE    DREYFUS    CASE. 
III. 

"While  th'  thrillin'  scenes  I'm  telHn'  ye 
about  is  goin'  on,  Hinnlssy,  worse  is  bein' 
enacted  in  beautiful  Paris.  In  that  lovely 
city  with  its  miles  an'  miles  iv  sparklin' 
resthrants, —  la  belly  Paree,  as  Hogan  'd  say, 
—  th'  largest  American  city  in  th'  wurruld, 
a  rivolution's  begun.  If  ye  don't  believe 
it,  read  th'  pa-apers.  They've  arrested 
a  pote.  That  was  all  r-right ;  f 'r  Fr-rance 
is  sufFerin'  fr'm  too  much  pothry  that  '11 
scan,  as  Hogan  says,  an'  too  much  morality 
that  won't.  They  ought  to  be  a  rule  f'r 
th'  polls  to  pinch  anny  pote  caught  poting 
between  th'  hours  iv  twelve  an'  twelve.  But 
th'  mistake  th'  chief  iv  th'  polls  made  was 
to  r-run  in  a  butcher  at  th'  same  time. 
What  th'  butcher  done  I  dinnaw ;  but  anny- 
how  they  accused  him  iv  wantin'  to  pole- 
axe  th'  governmint ;  an'  they  thrun  him  into 
a  cell.  Now  th'  butcher  he  had  a  frind  be 
th'  name  iv   Guerin, —  an  Irish  name  it  is. 


26o        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

but  this  la-ad  don't  appear  to  be  wan  iv 
us, —  Jools  Guerin.  He  was  wanst  in  th' 
thripe  business ;  but  he  is  now  r-runnin'  a 
newspaper,  Hke  most  iv  th'  people  iv  Fr-rance. 
As  a  thripe  butcher,  his  circulation  was  larger 
an'  among  a  betther  class  than  his  news- 
paper. Bein'  a  la-ad  with  a  fine  sinse  iv 
gratichood,  an'  havin'  been  wanst  fed  an' 
clothed  be  a  Jew  man,  he  calls  his  pa-aper 
th'  Anti-Jew ;  an'  its  principle  is,  whin  ye 
see  a  Jew,  hand  him  a  crack  in  th'  jaw.  'Tis 
a  good  principle,  though  I  wanst  knew  a 
man  be  th'  name  iv  Solomon  Felsenthal, 
that  was  known  in  th'  ring  as  Mike  Gal- 
legher,  th'  Tipp'rary  Cyclone,  as  a  thribute 
to  th'  feelin's  iv  th'  pathrons  iv  spoort;  an', 
if  Jools  had  thried  to  carry  out  his  platform 
vAth  Solly,  they'd  be  no  siege  in  Fort 
Chabrool.  Not  anny.  That  Jew  man  'd 
been  champeen  iv  th'  wurruld  if  all  iv  him 
cud  've  kept  out  iv  close  quarthers  with  th' 
man  again  him. 

"  I  don't  quarrel  with  Jools'  feelin's,  mind 
ye.     'Tis  th'  histhry  iv  th'  wurruld  that  th' 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         261 

Jews  takes  our  watches  fr'm  us  be  tin  per  cint 
a  month,  an'  we  take  thim  back  be  means  iv 
a  jimmy  an'  a  piece  iv  lead  pipe.  They're 
on'y  two  known  methods  iv  finance, —  bank- 
in'  an'  burglary.  Th'  Jews  has  th'  first 
down  fine,  but  all  th'  rest  iv  th'  wurruld  is 
at  home  in  th'  second.  So  Jools  's  all 
r-right  as  far  as  he  goes.  But  he  don't  go 
fkr. 

"  Well,  whin  Jools  hear-rd  that  his  frind 
th'  butcher  was  sloughed  up,  he  wint  fairly 
wild.  He  says  to  himsilf,  he  says,  '  I'll  go 
home,'  he  says,  '  an'  defy  th'  governmint,' 
he  says.  *  I'll  start  a  rivolution,'  he  says. 
'  But,'  he  says,  '  I  must  first  notify  th'  poHs,' 
he  says,  '  so's  to  prevint  disordher,'  he  says. 
So  he  wint  to  th'  chief  iv  polis,.who  was  an 
ol'  frind  iv  his, —  they  was  in  th'  same  news- 
paper office  or  thripe  dairy  or  something, — 
an'  th'  chief  kissed  Jools,  an'  asked  him  what 
he  cud  do  f'r  him.  '  I  wish,'  said  Jools, 
'  ye'd  sind  down  tin  or  a  dozen  good  men 
in  uniform  an'  a  few  detectives  in  citizen's 
clothes,'  he  says. 


qM        the  DREYFUS  CASE 

"  '  I've  asked  some  ladies  an'  gintlemen  to 
a  five  o'clock  rivolution  at  my  house,'  he 
says;  'an'  I'd  like  to  be  sure  they'll  be  no 
disordher,'  he  says.  '  Well,'  says  th'  chief, 
''twill  not  be  aisy,'  he  says.  'Ye  see  th* 
prisident — I  f'rget  his  name  —  has  been 
asked  to  go  to  th'  r-races  with  some  frinds,' 
he  says  ;  '  an'  they  will  prob'bly  thry  to  kill 
him,'  he  says.  '  We  can't  play  anny  fav'- 
rites  here,'  he  says.  '  We  have  to  protect 
th'  low  as  well  as  th'  high,'  he  says.  '  If 
annything  happens  to  this  man,  th'  case  is 
li'ble  to  be  taken  up  be  th'  ex-prisidents'  as- 
sociation ;  an'  they're  num'rous  enough  to 
make  throuble  f'r  us,'  he  says.  '  But,'  he 
says,  '  I'll  do  what  I  can  f'r  ye,  me  ol' 
frind,'  he  says.  '  Give  us  th'  best  ye  have,' 
says  Jools;  '  an',  if  ye've  nawthin'  to  do  afther 
ye  close  up,  ye  might  dhrop  in,'  he  says, 
*  an'  have  a  manifesto  with  us,'  he  says. 
'  Come  just  as  ye  ar-re,'  he  says.  '  'Tis  an 
informal  rivolution,'  he  says. 

"  An'  away  he  wint.  At  sharp  five 
o'clock  th'  rivolution  begun.     Th'  sthreets 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE        263 

was  dinsely  packed  with  busy  journalists, 
polis,  sojers,  an'  fash'nably  dhressed  ladies 
who  come  down  fr'm  th'  Chang's  All  Easy 
in  motocycles.  There  was  gr-reat  excite- 
ment as  Jools  come  to  th'  windy  an'  pinned 
a  copy  iv  his  vallyable  journal  on  th'  sill, 
accompanied  be  a  thrusty  liftnant  wavin'  a 
statement  iv  th'  circulation  iv  th'  Anti-Jew. 
Jools  at  this  moment  was  a  tur-rble  sight. 
He  was  dhressed  fr'm  head  to  foot  in  Har- 
veyized,  bomb-proof  steel,  with  an  asbestos 
rose  in  his  buttonhole.  Round  his  waist 
was  sthrapped  four  hundherd  rounds  iv  ca't- 
ridges  an'  eight  days'  provisions.  He  car- 
rid  a  Mauser  rifle  on  each  shoulder,  a 
machine  gun  undher  wan  ar-rm,  a  dinnymite 
bomb  undher  another,  an'  he  was  smoking 
a  cigareet.  '  Ladies  an'  gintlemen,'  he  says, 
'  I'm  proud  an'  pleased  to  see  ye  prisint  in 
such  lar-rge  numbers  at  th'  first  rivolution  iv 
th'  prisint  season,'  he  says.  *  With  th'  kind 
permission  iv  th'  hated  polis  undher  th' 
di-rection  iv  me  good  frind  an'  fellow-jour- 
nalist,   Loot     Franswoo     Coppere,    an'     th' 


264        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

ar-rmy,  f 'r  whose  honor  ivry  Fr-renchman  '11 
lay  down  his  life,  th'  siege  will  now  begin. 
We  will  not,'  he  says,  '  lave  this  house  till 
we  have  driven  ivry  cur-rsed  Cosmypollitan 
or  Jew,'  he  says,  '  fr'm  this  noble  land  iv  th' 
br-rave  an'  home  iv  th'  flea,'  he  says. 
'  Veev  Fr-rance  ! '  he  says.  '  Veev  Jools 
Guerin  ! '  he  says.  '  Conspuez  Rothscheeld  ! ' 
he  says.  '  It's  ye'er  move.  Loot,'  he  says 
to  th'  polisman. 

"  '  I  defer  to  th'  ar-rmy  whose  honor  is 
beyond  reproach,'  says  th'  polisman,  '  or 
recognition,'  he  says.  '  Veev  I'army  ! '  he 
says. 

"  '  Thank  ye,'  says  Gin'ral  Bellow,  salutin'. 
*  I  will  do  me  jooty.  Man  can  do  no  more,' 
he  says.  '  Jools,'  he  says,  '  surrinder,'  he 
says.  '  Ye  cannot  longer  hoi'  out,'  he  says. 
'  Ye  have  provisions  on'y  f 'r  eight  years.' 

" '  We  will  remain  till  th'  last  wan  iv  us 
perishes  iv  indigestion,'  says  Jools. 

" '  Thin  I  must  take  sthrong  measures,' 
says  th'  gin'ral.  '  At  a  given  signal  we  will 
storm  th'  house,  bate  down  th'  dures,  smash 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         265 

in  th'  roofs,  cut  off  th'  gas,  poison  th' 
wather  supply,  back  up  th'  sewer,  break  th' 
wiridys,  an'  r-raise  th'  rint.'  " 

"  '  Do  ye'er  worst,'  says  Jools,  proudly. 

" '  Thin,'  says  th'  gin'ral,  imprissively, 
'  if  these  measures  do  not  suffice,  I  will  sus- 
pind  th'  deliv'ry  iv  th'  mails,'  he  says. 

"  '  Miscreant ! '  cries  Jools,  tur-rnin'  white. 
'  An'  this  is  called  a  merciful  governmint,'  he 
says.  '  Mong  doo,'  he  says,  '  what  cr-rimes 
will  not  Fr-rinchmen  commit  again'  Fr-rinch- 
men  ! '  he  says.  '  But,'  he  says,  '  ye  little 
know  us,  if  ye  think  we  can  be  quelled  be 
vi'lence,'  he  says.  '  I  have  a  last  card,'  he 
says.     '  I    refuse  to  give  th'  signal,'  he  says. 

"'Thin,'  says  th'  gin'ral,  tur-rnin'  away 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  *  we  must  adopt  other 
measures.' 

"'Very  vv^ell,'  says  Jools.  'But  mark 
wan  thing, —  that,  if  ye  attempt  to  make  me 
ridiculous,  ye  shall  suffer.' 

" '  I  assure  ye,  mong  editor,'  says  th' 
gin'ral,  earnestly,  '  that  th'  governmint  will 
not  make  ye  anny  more  ridiculous  than  it 
makes  itsilf,'  says  he. 


266        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

"  '  Me  honor  is  satisfied,'  says  Jools.  '  Do 
ye'er  worst,'  he  says, 

"At  eight  o'clock  th'  minister  iv  war  ar- 
rived, an'  took  command.  He  ordhered  up 
twinty  rig'mints  iv  cav'lry,  tin  batthries  iv 
artillery,  an'  two  di-visions  iv  Rit  sojers.  It 
was  his  intintion  to  sind  th'  cav'lry  in  over 
th'  roofs,  while  th'  army  carried  th'  front 
stoop,  protected  be  fire  fr'm  th'  heavy  ar- 
tillery, while  th'  Fr-rinch  navy  shelled  th' 
back  dure.  But  this  was  seen  to  be  impos- 
sible, because  th'  man  that  owned  th'  wine- 
shop next  dure,  he  said  'twud  dhrive  away 
custom.  All  th'  sthreets  f 'r  miles  ar-round 
was  blockaded  without  effect.  Th'  fire  de- 
partmint  was  called  to  put  Jools  out,  but 
wather  niver  touched  him.  Th'  sewer  gang 
wint  down  an'  blocked  th'  dhrains,  an'  Jools 
soon  had  inspiration  f 'r  a  year's  writin'.  At 
last  accounts  th'  garrison  was  still  holdin* 
out  bravely  again  a  witherin'  fire  iv  canned 
food,  lobsters,  omelets,  an'  hams.  A  brave 
gossoon  in  th'  Sivinth  Artill'ry  did  partic'- 
larly    effective    wurruk,  hur-rlin'  a    plate  iv 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE        267 

scrambled  eggs  acrost  th'  sthreet  without 
spillin'  a  dhrop,  an'  is  now  thrainin'  a  pie 
like  mother  used  to  make  on  th'  first  windy 
iv  th'  sicond  flure.  It  is  reported  that  th' 
minister  iv  war  at  four  o'clock  to-morrow 
mornin'  will  dhrop  a  bundle  iv  copies  iv 
Jools'  paper  through  th'  chimbley.  Whin 
he  opens  th'  windy,  a  pome  be  Paul  Derou- 
lede  '11  be  read  to  him.  This  is  again  th' 
articles  iv  war,  but  th'  case  is  desp'rate. 

"  But  I  was  thinkin',  Hinnissy,  as  I  walked 
down  th'  Roo  Chabrool,  how  I'd  like  to  see 
a  Chicago  polisman  come  sthrollin'  along 
with  his  hat  on  th'  back  iv  his  head.  I  don't 
love  Chicago  polismen.  They  seem  to  think 
ivry  man's  head's  as  hard  as  their  own.  But 
I'd  give  forty-three  francs,  or  eight  dollars 
an'  sixty  cints  iv  our  money,  if  th'  Fr-rinch 
governmint  'd  sind  f 'r  Jawnny  Shea,  an'  ask 
him  to  put  down  this  here  rivolution.  Th' 
nex'  day  they'd  move  th'  office  iv  th'  Anti- 
Seemite  Society  to  th'  morgue." 


THE    DREYFUS    CASE. 
IV. 

"  Well,  Hinnissy,  to  get  back  to  Rennes. 
Whin  I  left  off,  th'  air  was  full  iv  rumors 
iv  an  approachin'  massacree.  It  was  still  full 
at  daybreak.  Exthraordinney  measures  was 
adopted  to  provide  again  disturbance.  Th' 
gyard  was  doubled,  an'  both  polismen  had 
all  they  cud  do  to  keep  th'  crowd  in  ordher. 
Th*  English  an'  American  journalists  ap- 
peared at  th'  thrile  wrapped  up  in  th'  flags 
iv  their  rayspictive  counthries.  All  th'  Jews, 
excipt  th'  owners  iv  anti-Jew  papers  fr'm 
Paris,  wore  heavy  masks  an'  kep'  their  hands 
in  their  pockets.  At  four  o'clock  th'  prisi- 
dent  called  th'  audjience  to  disordher,  an', 
havin'  disentangled  Gin'ral  Merceer  an'  a 
former  prisident  iv  th'  ray  public,  demanded 
if  Moosoo  Bertillon  was  in  th'  room. 

"  '  Here,'  says  that  gr-reat  janius,  descindin* 
fr'm  th'  roof  in  a  parachute.  Ye  know  Ber- 
tillon. Ye  don't?  Iv  coorse  ye  do,  Hin- 
nissy.       He's    th'    la-ad    that    invinted    th' 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         269 

system  iv  ditictive  wurruk  med  aisy  that 
they  use  down  in  th'  Cintral  PoHs  Station. 
I  mind  wanst,  afther  'twas  inthrojooced,  th' 
loot  says  to  Andy  Rohan, —  he's  a  sergeant 
now,  be  hivins  !  —  he  says,  *  Go  out,'  he  says, 

*  an'  fetch  in  Mike  McGool,  th'  safe  robber,' 
he  says.  '  Here's  his  description,'  he  says  : 
'  eyelashes,  eight  killomethres  long ;  eyes, 
blue  an'  assymethrical ;  jaw,  bituminous ; 
measuremint  fr'm  abaft  th'  left  ear  to  base  iv 
maxillory  glan's,  four  hectograms ;  a  r-red 
scar  runnin'  fr'm  th'  noomo-gasthric  narve 
to  th'  sicond  dorsal  verteebree,'  he  says. 
'Tis  so.  I  have  th*  description  at  home  in 
th'  cash  dhrawer.  Well,  Andy  come  in 
about  six  o'clock  that  night,  lookin'  as 
though  he'd  been  thryin'  to  r-run  a  fut  race 
acrost  a  pile  iv  scrap  ir'n ;  an'  says  he, 
^  Loot,'  he  says,  'I've  got  him,'  he  says. 
"  I    didn't   take   th'  measuremints,'  he   says, 

*  because,  whin  I  pulled  out  th'  tape  line, 
he  rowled  me  eighty  hectograms  down  th' 
sthreet,'  he  says.  '  But  'tis  Mike  McGool,' 
he    says.     '  I    don't   know   annything   about 


270        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

his  noomo-gasthric  narves,'  he  says,  '  but  I 
reco'nized  his  face/  he  says.  '  I've  r-run 
him  in  fifty  times,'  he  says. 

"  Bertillon,  besides  bein'  a  profissor  iv 
detictives,  is  a  handwritin'  expert,  which  is 
wan  iv  th'  principal  industhrees  iv  Fr-rance 
at  th'  prisint  time.  He  was  accompanied  be 
a  throop  iv  assistants  carryin'  a  camera,  a 
mutoscope,  a  magic  lantern,  a  tib  iv  dye,  a 
telescope,  a  calceem  light,  a  sextant,  a  com- 
pass, a  thermometer,  a  barometer,  a  thrunk- 
ful  iv  speeches,  a  duplicate  to  th'  Agyptian 
obelisk,  an  ink-eraser,  an'  a  rayceipt  f'r 
makin'  goold  out  iv  lead  pipe. 

"  '  Well,  sir,'  says  Bertillon,  '  what  d'ye 
want  ? ' 

"  '  Nawthin','  says  th'  coort.  '  Didn't  ye 
ask  to  be  called  here  ? ' 

"  '  No,'  says  Bertillon,  '  an'  ye  didn't  ask 
me,  ayther.  1  come.  Ye  said  jus'  now. 
Why  do  I  believe  th'  Cap's  guilty  ?  I  will 
show  ye.  In  th'  spring  iv  ninety-five  or  th' 
fall  iv  sixty-eight,  I  disraymimber  which, 
Gin'ral  Merceer'  — 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         271 

"'Ye  lie,'  says  Gin'ral  Merceer,  coldly- 

'" called  on  me;    an'   says  he,  "  Ber- 

tillon,"  he  says,  "  ye'er  fam'ly's  been  a  little 
cracked,  an'  I  thought  to  ask  ye  to  identify 
this  letther  which  I've  jus'  had  written  be 
a  frind  iv  mine,  Major  Estherhazy,"  he  says. 
"I  don't  care  to  mintion  who  we  suspect; 
but  he's  a  canal  Jew  in  th'  artillery,  an'  his 
name's  Cap  Dhryfuss,"  he  says.  "  It's  not 
aisy,"  I  says  ;  "  but,  if  th'  honor  iv  th'  ar-rmy's 
at  stake,  I'll  thry  to  fix  th'  raysponsibility," 
I  says.  An'  I  wint  to  wurruk.  I  discov- 
ered in  th'  first  place  that  all  sentences  be- 
gun with  capitals,  an'  they  was  a  peryod  at 
th'  end  iv  each.  This  aroused  me  suspi- 
cions. Clearly,  this  letther  was  written  be 
a  Jew.  Here  1  paused,  f'r  I  had  no  sam- 
ples iv  th'  Cap's  writin'  to  compare  with  it. 
So  I  wrote  wan  mesilf  They  was  much  th* 
same.  "  Sure,"  says  I,  "  th'  Cap's  guilty,"  I 
says.  But  how  did  he  do  it  ?  I  thried  a 
number  iv  experiments.  I  first  laid  down 
over  th'  letther  a  piece  of  common  tissue 
paper.       Th'    writin'     was     perfectly    plain 


272        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

through  this.  Thin  I  threw  it  on  a  screen 
eighteen  hands  high.  Thin  I  threw  it  off. 
Thin  I  set  it  to  music,  an'  played  it  on  a 
flute.  Thin  I  cooked  it  over  a  slow  fire,  an' 
left  it  in  a  cool  airy  place  to  dhry.  In  an 
instant  it  flashed  over  me  how  th'  forgery 
was  done.  "  Th'  Cap  first  give  it  to  his 
little  boy  to  write.  Thin  he  had  his  wife 
copy  it  in  imitation  iv  Macchew  Dhryfuss's 
handwritin'.  Thin  Macchew  wrote  it  in 
imitation  iv  Estherhazy.  Thin  th'  Cap  had 
it  put  on  a  typewriter,  an'  r-run  through  a 
v/ringer.  Thin  he  laid  it  transversely  acrost 
a  piece  of  wall  paper ;  an',  whereiver  th'  key 
wurrud  sponge-cake  appeared,  he  was  thereby 
able  f 'r  to  make  a  sympathic  lesion,  acquirin' 
all  th'  characteristics  iv  th'  race,  an'  a  dam 
sight  more." 

" '  I  follow  ye  like  a  horse  afther  a  hay 
wagon,'  says  th'  prisident,  '  hungrily,  but 
unsatisfacthrly.  Ye  do  not  prove  that  th' 
throuble  was  symotic,  mong  expert.' 

"  '  Parfictly,'  says  Moosoo  Bertillon.  '  I 
will  have  me  assistants  put  up  a  screen,  an' 
on  this  I  will  projooce  ividince '  — 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE        273 

"  *  Go  away,'  says  th'  prisident.  '  Call 
Colonel  Prystalter.  Mong  colonel,  ye  thrai- 
tor,  describe  th'  conversation  ye  had  with 
Colonel  Schneider,  th'  honorable  but  lyin'  spy 
or  confidential  envoy  iv  th'  vin'rable  Impror 
iv  Austhrich,  may  th'  divvle  fly  way  with  him  ! 
But  mind  ye,  ye  must  mintion  no  names.' 

"  '  I  know  no  man  more  honest,'  says  th' 
witness. 

"  *  Thin  your  acquaintance  is  limited  to 
ye'ersilf,'   says  Gin'ral  Merceer. 

"  '  Colonel  Schneider,'  says  th'  witness,*  th' 
Austhrich, —  whom  I  will  designate,  f'r  fear 
iv  internaytional  entanglements,  merely  as 
Colonel  Schneider, —  says  to  me,  he  says  : 
"  Th'  letther  pretindin'  to  be  fr'm  me  is  a  for- 
gery." "  How's  that?  "  says  I.  "  Didn't  ye 
write  an'  sign  it  ?  "  I  says.  "  I  did,"  says  he. 
"  But  some  wan  else  sint  it  to  th'  pa-apers." 

"'Thin  'tis  clearly  a  forgery,'  says  th' 
prisident. 

"  '  I  wish  to  ask  this  witness  wan  question,' 
says  Gin'ral  Merceer.  '  Was  it  th'  Robin 
shell  or  th'  day  befure  ? ' 


274        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

" '  My  answer  to  that,'  says  th'  witness, 
'  is  decidedly,  Who  ? ' 

"  *  Thin,'  says  Gin'ral  Merceer,  '  all  I  can 
say  is,  this  wretch's  tistimony  is  all  a  pack  iv 
lies.' 

"  '  Hoi'  on  there  !  '  calls  a  voice  from  th' 
aujience. 

"  '  What  d'ye  want  ? '  says  th'  prisident. 

"'I'm  th'  corryspondint  iv  th'  Georgia 
Daily  Lyncher,  an'  I  can't  undherstand  a 
wurrud  ye  say.  I've  lost  me  dictionary. 
Th'  people  iv  th'  State  iv  Georgia  mus'  not 
be  deprived  iv  their  information  about  th' 
scand'lous  conduct  iv  this  infamious  coort.' 

"  'Thrue,'  says  th'  prisident.  *  Fr-rance  'd 
soon  perish  if  Georgia  shud  thransfer  its  in- 
therest  fr'm  Fr-rinch  coorts  to  its  own  sacred 
timples  iv  justice.  Perhaps  some  confrere  '11 
lind  th'  distinguished  gazabo  a  copy  iv  his 
Ollendorff^      Manewhile  '  — 

"  *  Mong  prisident,'  says  a  white-faced  po- 
lisman,  '  Judge  Crazy  the  Boore  '  — 

" '  Gr-reat  hivins  ! '  cried  th'  prisident. 
'  Thin  th'  quarantine  at  Oporto  is  a  farce.' 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE        275 

An'  he  plunged  into  th'  seething  mass  iv 
handwritin'  experts  an'  ex-prisidents  iv  th' 
raypublic  in  th'  coort-yard  below." 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE. 
V. 

'*An*  I  was  thinkin',  HInnissy "  (Mr. 
Dooley  said  in  conclusion),  "  as  I  set  in  that 
there  coort,  surrounded  be  me  fellow-journal- 
ists, spies,  perjurers,  an'  other  statesmen,  that 
I'd  give  four  dollars  if  th'  prisident  iv  th' 
coort  'd  call  out,  '  Moosoo  Dooley,  take  th' 
stand.' 

" '  Here,'  says  I  ;  an'  I  'd  thread  me  way 
with  dignity  through  th'  Fr-rinch  gin'rals  an' 
ministers  on  th'  flure,  an'  give  me  hand  to 
th'  prisident  to  kiss.  If  he  went  anny 
further,  I'd  break  his  head.  No  man  '11  kiss 
me,  Hinnissy,  an'  live.  What's  that  ye 
say?  He  wudden't  want  to.''  Well,  niver 
mind. 

"  *  Here,'  says  I,  '  mong  colonel,  what 
d'ye  want  with  me  ? ' 

"  *  What  d'ye  know  about  this  case,  mong 
bar-tinder.' 

"  *  Nawthin','  says  I.  *  But  I  know  as 
much  as  annywan  else.      I  know  more  thin 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         277 

most  iv  thim  la-ads  down  below;  f'r  I  can't 
undherstand  a  wurrud  ye  say,  so  I'm  onable,' 
I  says,  '  f'r  to  make  mistakes.  I  won't  give 
anny  tistimony,  because  'twud  be  out  iv 
place  in  this  sacred  timple  devoted  to  th' 
practice  iv  orathry,*  I  says ;  *  but  I  can 
make  as  good  a  speech  as  annywan,  an'  here 
goes.' 

"  Gin'ral  Merceer. —  'May  I  ask  this 
polluted  witness  wan  question  ?  ' 

"  Th'  Witness. — '  Set  down,  ye  infamious 
ol'  polthroon  ! '  says  I.  '  Set  down  an'  pon- 
dher  ye'er  sins,'  I  says.  '  If  ye  had  ye'er 
dues,  ye'd  be  cooprin'  a  bar'l  in  th'  pini- 
tinchry.  If  ye're  afraid  iv  th'  Impror  Wil- 
lum,  be  hivins,  ye  want  to  be  afraid  iv  th' 
Impror  Dooley  ;  f'r  he's  Dutch,  an'  I  ain't. 
I'll  raysume  me  speech.  Lady  an'  Gintle- 
men,  prisoner  at  th'  bar,  freeman  that  ought 
to  be  there,  lawyers,  gin'rals,  ex-prisident3, 
former  mimbers  iv  th'  cabinet,  an'  you,  me 
gin'rous  confreres  iv  th'  wurruld's  press,  I 
come  fr'm  a  land  where  injustice  is  unknown, 
where  ivry   man  is  akel   befure  th'  law,  but 


278         THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

some  are  betther  thin  others  behind  it,  where 
th'  accused  always  has  a  fair  thrile  ayether,' 
I  says,  '  in  th'  criminal  coort  or  at  th'  cor- 
oner's inquest,'  I  says.  '  I  have  just  been  in 
another  counthry  where  such  conduct  as 
we've  witnessed  here  wud  be  unknown  at 
a  second  thrile,'  I  says,  '  because  they  have 
no  second  thriles,'  I  says.  '  We  Anglo- 
Saxons  ar-re  th'  salt  iv  th'  earth,  an'  don't 
ye  f'rget  it,  boys.  All  our  affairs  ar-re  in 
ordher.  We  convict  no  innocent  men  an' 
very  few  guilty  wans,  perjury  is  unknown 
amongst  us,  we  have  no  military  scandals, 
an'  our  private  life  is  beyond  rebuke.  So 
we  have  th'  time  an'  th'  inclination  to  study 
th'  vile  offences  iv  our  neighbors,  an'  give 
thim  advice  free  iv  cost.  An'  that  is  why 
I'm  here  to-day  in  this  degraded  counthry 
to  tell  ye  what's  th'  matther  with  ye  an'  what 
ye  ought  to  do. 

"  '  An'  this  is  me  opinyon  :  I  don't  think 
Cap.  Dhryfus  wr-rote  th'  borderoo.  I  think 
he  was  th'  on'y  man  in  Fr-rance  that  didn't. 
But  I  ain't  got  as  high  an  opinyon  iv  th'  Cap 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE         279 

as  I  had.  I  ain't  no  purity  brigade  ;  but,  th' 
older  I  get,  th'  more  I  think  wan  wife's 
enough  f'r  anny  man,  an'  too  manny  f'r 
some.  They  was  a  time.  Cap,  whin  'twas 
seryously  thought  iv  takin'  ye  fr'm  th' 
Divvle's  Own  Island  an'  makin'  ye  prisident 
iv  th'  Women's  Rescue  League.  But  I'm 
afraid,  Cap,  ye're  disqualified  f'r  that  posi- 
tion be  what  we've  heard  fr'm  ye'er  own  lips 
durin'  th'  thrile.  Ye  lost  a  good  job.  Thin 
there  ar-re  some  other  things  about  ye  I 
don't  undherstand.  I  can't  make  out  what 
ye  meant  be  pretindin'  to  go  to  It'ly  an"* 
doublin' back  into  Germany;  an'  I  wish  f'r 
me  own  peace  iv  mind  all  ye'er  explana- 
tions 'd  mate.  But,  sure,  if  ivry  man  that 
was  too  free  with  his  affections  was  to  be  sint 
to  th'  Divvle's  Own  Island,  they'd  have  to 
build  an  intinsion  to  that  far-famed  winther 
resort.  An'  if  suspicyous  actions  was  proof 
iv  guilt,  mong  colonel,  ye'd  have  th'  mim- 
bers  iv  th'  gin'ral  staff  sthrung  up  in  as 
manny  cages  as  ye  see  at  th'  Zoo-illogical 
Gardens  [laughter  an'  cries  iv  '  Veev 
Dooley  ! '] 


28o        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

" '  Th'  throuble  is,  mong  colonel,  lady 
an'  glntlemen,  that  it  ain't  been  Cap  Dhry- 
fuss  that's  been  on  thrile,  but  th'  honor  iv 
th'  nation  an'  th'  honor  iv  th'  ar-rmy.  If 
'twas  th'  Cap  that  was  charged,  ye'd  say 
to  him,  *'  Cap,  we  haven't  anny  proof  again 
ye ;  but  we  don't  like  ye,  an'  ye'U  have  to 
move  on."  An'  that  'd  be  th'  end  iv  th' 
row.  The  Cap  'd  go  over  to  England  an' 
go  into  th'  South  African  minin'  business, 
an'  become  what  Hogan  calls  "  A  Casey's 
bellows."  But,  because  some  la-ad  on  th' 
gin'ral  staff  got  caught  lyin'  in  th'  start  an' 
had  to  lie  some  more  to  make  th'  first  wan 
stick,  an'  th'  other  gin'rals  had  to  jine  him 
f'r  fear  he  might  compromise  thim  if  he 
wint  on  telling  his  fairy  stories,  an'  they  was 
la-ads  r-runnin'  newspapers  in  Paris  that 
needed  to  make  a  little  money  out  iv  th' 
popylation,  ye  said,  "  Th'  honor  iv  th' 
Fr-rinch  people  an'  th'  honor  iv  th'  Fr-rinch 
ar-rmy  is  on  thrile  "  ;  an'  ye've  put  thim  in 
th'  dock  instead  iv  th'  Cap.  Th'  honor  iv 
Fr~rance  is  all  right,  me  boy,  an'  will  be  so 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE        2S1 

long  as  th'  Fr-rlnch  newspapers  is  not  read 
out  iv  Paree,'  I  says.  '  An',  if  th'  honor  iv 
th'  Fr-rinch  ar-rmy  can  stand  thim  pants 
that  ye  hew  out  iv  red  flannel  f 'r  thim,  a 
little  threachery  won't  injure  it  at  all,'  I  says. 
*Yes,'  says  I,  *  th'  honor  iv  Fr-rance  an'  th' 
honor  iv  th'  ar-rmy'll  come  out  all  r-right,' 
I  says  ;  '  but  it  wudden't  do  anny  harm  f 'r 
to  sind  th'  honor  iv  th'  Fr-rinch  gin'rals  to 
th'  laundhry,'  I  says.  '  I  think  ye'd  have 
to  sind  Gin'ral  Merceer's  to  th'  dyer's,'  I 
says.  *  Ye  niver  can  take  out  th'  spots,  an' 
it  might  as  well  all  be  th'  same  color,'  I  says. 
'  Mong  colonel,'  I  says  imprissively,  '  so 
long  as  ivry  man  looks  out  f'r  his  own 
honor,  th'  honor  iv  th'  counthry'll  look  out 
f'r  itsilf,'  I  says.  '  No  wan  iver  heard  iv  a 
nation  stealin'  a  lead  pipe  or  committin'  per- 
jury,' I  says.  '  'Tis  th'  men  that  makes  up 
th'  nation  that  goes  in  f'r  these  diversions,' 
1  says.  '  I'd  hate  to  insure  again  burglars 
th'  naytional  honor  that  was  guarded  be  that 
ol'  gazabo,'  says  I,  indicatin'  Merceer  with 
th'  toe  iv  me  boot. 


282        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

" '  That's  wan  point.  They's  another, 
mong  colonel.  Ye're  all  afraid.  That's 
th'  truth  iv  th*  rnatther.  Ye're  like  a  lot  iv 
ol'  women  that  thinks  ivry  time  th'  shutter 
creaks  burglars  is  goin'  to  break  into  th' 
house.  Ye're  afraid  iv  Rothscheeld,  an'  th' 
Impror  iv  Germany,  an'  th'  Dook  d'Orleans, 
Vik  Bonaparte,  an'  Joe  Chamberlain,  an' 
Bill  McKinley.  Be  hivins,  1  believe  ye're 
even  afraid  iv  Gin'ral  Otis  !  Ye're  afraid  iv 
th'  newspapers,  ye're  afraid  iv  Jools  Guerin, 
ye're  afraid  iv  a  pote,  even  whin  he  is  not 
ar-rmed  with  his  pothry,  an'  ye're  afraid 
-iv  each  other.  Brace  up!  be  men!  If 
I  was  a  Fr-rinchman,  Fd  be  afraid  iv  no 
man  but  th'  cab-dhrivers  ;  an'  I  wudden't  be 
afraid  iv  thim  long,  f 'r  Fd  be  a  cab-dhriver 
mesilf. 

" '  Wan  thing  more,  an'  thin  me  tisti- 
mony's  over.  Ye  want  me  advice.  Ye 
didn't  ask  f 'r  it.  If  I  was  prisident  iv  this 
coort-martial,  Fd  say  to  Cap  Dhryfuss : 
"  Cap,  get  out.  Ye  may  not  be  a  thraitor, 
but   ye're   worse.      Ye're    become    a   bore." 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE        283 

An'  I'd  give  hira  money  enough  to  lave  th' 
counthry.  Thin  I'd  sind  th'  gin'ral  staff 
off  to  some  quiet  counthry  village  where 
they'd  be  free  fr'm  rumors  iv  war,  an'  have 
nawthin'  else  to  do  but  set  around  in 
rockin'-chairs  an'  play  with  th'  cat.  Thin 
I'd  cut  th'  cable  to  England;  an'  thin  I'd 
gather  all  the  journalists  iv  Paris  together, 
an'  I'd  say,  "  Gintlemen,"  I'd  say,  "  th' 
press  is  th'  palajeem  iv  our  liberties,"  I'd 
say ;  "  but  our  liberties  no  longer  requires  a 
palajeem,"  I'd  say.  "  This  wan,  whativer  it 
means,  is  frayed  at  th'  risbands,  an'  th' 
buttonholes  is  broken,  annyhow,"  I'd  say. 
"  I've  bought  all  iv  ye  tickets  to  Johannis- 
berg,"  I'd  say,  "an'  ye'll  be  shipped  there  to- 
night," I'd  say.  "  Ye'er  confreres  iv  that 
gr-reat  city  is  worn  out  with  their  exertions, 
an'  ye'll  find  plenty  iv  wurruk  to  do.  In 
fact,  those  iv  ye  that're  anti-Seemites  '11  niver 
lack  imployment,"  I'd  say.  "  Hinceforth 
Fr-rance  will  be  free  —  fr'm  th'  likes  iv  ye," 
I'd  say.  An'  th'  nex'  mornin'  Paris  'd 
awake    ca'm    an'    peaceful,    with    no     news- 


284        THE  DREYFUS  CASE 

papers,  an'    there   'd  be    more   room  in  out 
own  papers  f'r  th'  base-ball  news,'  says  1. 

"  *  But,  mong  liquor  dealer,  what  ye  pro- 
pose 'd  depopylate  France,'  says  th'  prisident. 

"'If  that's  th'  case,'  says  I,  *  Fr-rance 
ought  to  be  depopylated,'  I  says.  '  I've 
been  thinkin'  that's  th'  on'y  way  it  can  be 
made  fit  to  live  in  f'r  a  man  fr'm  Chicago, 
where  th'  jambons  come  fr'm,'  says  I,  lavin' 
th'  stand." 

"  Arrah,  what  ar-re  ye  talkin'  about?  "  de- 
manded Mr.  Hennessy.  "Ye  niver  got  a 
peek  in  th'  dure." 

"  What  have  you  been  doin'  ? "  Mr. 
Dooley  asked,  disregarding  the  interruption. 

"  I  wint  out  to  see  th'  rowlin'  mills,"  said 
Mr.  Hennessy.  "  They  have  a  very  good 
plant;  an'  a  man  be  th'  name  iv  Mechell 
Onnessy  or  Mike  Hennessy,  a  cousin  iv 
mine  that  come  over  th'  Fenian  time  with 
Stevens,  is  boss  iv  a  gang.  He  speaks 
Fr-rinch  like  a  boardin'-school.  I  talked 
with  wan  iv  th'  la-ads  through  him. 


THE  DREYFUS  CASE        285 

"  Did    ye   ask    him   about    th'    Dhryfuss 
case?"  asked  Mr.  Dooley,  eagerly. 
''  I  did." 

"  What  did  he  say  ?" 
"  He  said  he  niver  heerd  of  it." 


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